The Warp is Calm
by LordsFire
Summary: On Mindoir, John Shepard saw death for the first time. In the Calixis Sector, Lord Inquisitor Khan found that those in power value their own power over the Truth. With one lauded a hero, the other driven into exile a galaxy away, both will attempt to find a cure to the ills that plague all civilizations. And fight a race of genocidal machines and their pawns in the process.
1. Noveria

AN: This is a reboot of the series; I decided the previous incarnation was of inferior quality, so I'm starting it over again. This chapter begins 'In Media Res,' which is to say with the story already in progress. Setup and background will be filled out in other chapters; some questions are answered in the story thread for this over on SpaceBattles, if one happens to be particularly curious.

((()))

_Noveria, 2181._

Massive gray vehicle doors slipped open, and Captain Sheila Anderson, rendered invisible by her tactical cloak, slipped into Peak 15's cavernous hangar bay. The chamber was primarily illuminated by a mixture of standard floodlights, and for some reason that Sheila could not fathom, portable red floodlights, which cast a crimson glare over the hangar.

_Isolated research facility on frozen world, no sign of active personnel, provided with irregular lighting. No, this can't go wrong _at all_, _Sheila thought grouchily to herself as she took cover behind one of the chamber's large ramps, then allowed her cloak to deactivate. She targeted a blank patch of concrete in the hangar's antechamber with an infrared comm-laser, and sent the blink code for 'clear.' The IR imaging equipment in her team leader's suit picked up the indirect transmission, and some seconds later, two more members of her team became visible from positions of cover of their own.

Finally, a full fifty seconds after all three of them had reached cover, Lieutenant-Colonel Shepard moved up, Specter Nihlus Kryik on his wing, Garrus Vakarian escorting Liara T'Soni in behind them. Active sensors were fired up, and over the next five minutes the bay was quietly swept for any trace of hostile activity.

They found nothing.

"Anybody else got a bad feeling about this?" Lieutenant Gravitz grumped, "Because I feel like I just walked into a horror movie."

"There's no reason to _assume_ that anything has gone wrong," T'Soni said cautiously.

"Well, that pretty much makes it _definitive_," Lieutenant Weiss chuckled, "Expect some sort of horrible alien monstrosity to try to eat your face. I'm betting a hundred creds on Xenomorphs."

"I'll take that bet," Gravitz said sarcastically, "Considering Xenomorphs are _fictitious_."

Sheila tuned out her teammate's banter, something largely affected for her benefit, and started hacking into the door controls for the entrance of the rest of the facility. Soon enough, she cracked the control, and at a nod from Shepard, the team took firing positions, and she opened the door.

"Oh, now that _can't_ be good," Gravitz growled.

'That' being the pair of defense turrets set up in the security 'airlock,' that were pointed _in_ rather than _out_.

"Just like in Aliens Seven," Weiss said with a nod, "I'm telling you, Xenomorphs."

"Can the chatter, children," Shepard said, half-serious, half gentle, "And remember what happened to the recovery team in Resident Evil Eighty-Seven."

"Cap watches _movies_?" Weiss breathed, disbelievingly, before going silent at a look from Shepard.

A swift, efficient sweep of the security office revealed no human presence, and after taking a moment for Weiss to seize digital control of the defense turrets, Shepard, Nihlus, and Sheila boarded the elevator to the rest of the facility. The elevator ride was fairly short, completely uneventful, and when the door opened at the end, all three of its occupants were under cloak, though they didn't hold it for long.

"Are you _serious?_" Shepard whispered once they had swept the broad corridor immediately beyond the elevator, "Bare ice and _frosted windows?_ Did whoever designed this place get kicked out of the over-dramatic set-designers guild?"

"If they did," Nihlus said, some humor in his resonant voice, "I'm certain your disdain is spoiling it for them."

"At least they left us clear lanes of fire," Sheila grouched, "Orders?"

"Pull out your sniper and set up on the elevator," Shepard commanded, glancing at Nihlus before continuing, "Nihlus and I'll check the door."

"Sir," Sheila said, dropping prone and setting her sniper rifle up on the elevator floor.

Nihlus and Shepard went quiet, and advanced cautiously to the door at the far end of the near-cavernous corridor. Nothing exploded, shot at, jumped at, or tried to bite them as they moved, and they took up positions on opposite sides of the door that lead further into Peak 15. Shepard extended a small fiber-optic probe from the wrist of his suit, then nodded to Nihlus, who keyed the door open.

Before anything else, the _stench_ that rolled out of the next chamber told Shepard that things had gone _wrong_, and the image from the optics quickly confirmed it. A large heavy metal table had been overturned just outside the door, blocking about half of the exit, and both it and the icy floor beyond were spattered with bloodstains.

"Seal suits," Shepard order, mimicking Nihlus, who was already in the process of doing so himself, "Potential biochem hazard, there's already been a firefight. You have anything, Sheila?"

"No hostiles visible," Anderson replied quietly, "Recommend moving the table."

Shepard nodded, and with a twist of gravitic energy, lifted the overturned table, then almost immediately dropped it.

Now revealed, was a massive insectoid corpse; it took Shepard a few moments of furious thought to successfully identify it as a _Rachni Warrior Drone_.

"This is bad," Nihlus said wryly, before activating his comm, "Vakarian. Signal the Normandy, we just found a _fresh_ Rachni warrior drone corpse. We need a full ground team and a secure report to the Council sent _immediately_."

"Anything other than Rachni presence to be included in that report?" Vakarian asked.

"No," Nihlus said, "That's all they'll need."

"All my knowledge of Rachni is purely academic," Shepard cut in, "Do you want to take command of the operation Nihlus?"

"No," Nihlus said, shaking his head, "My knowledge is just as academic. Lead on."

Shepard nodded, then signaled for Sheila to move up to the door, before advancing into the next chamber himself. In function, it appeared to have been designed as an exceedingly large cafeteria, intended to serve hundreds of people; now, it was a blood-spattered charnel-house. Human, Turian, Asari, Salarian, even Krogan blood littered the cafeteria, as well as small bloody gibbets of meat, but there were no full humanoid corpses.

Of the Rachni, however, there was far more evidence. A full half-dozen bull-sized warrior drone corpses littered the chamber, all of them heavily mutilated, one of them outright cut in half. The cold made it hard to tell how old the corpses were, but given that some of the blood had mixed in with the ice and re-frozen, they clearly weren't very _fresh_.

"Nothing living," He reported, "Gravitz, get up here with the rest of the team."

"Yes sir," Gravitz reported.

The wait for the rest of the team to arrive was painful; the elevator was the only way (yet known) in or out of the facility, and while the car was down the shaft, not only was it unavailable to retreat by, but it was blocking the shaft from more desperate means of retreat. Fortunately, nothing jumped out to try and eat the three of them while they waited, and the rest of the team arrived without incident.

"Goddess," T'Soni breathed, "What happened to these creatures?"

"We'll find out _after_ we secure the site," Shepard declared, "Weiss, you hold the door, Anderson, Gravitz, you're with me."

Shepard found that like many days of his life, he was cursing civilian architect's propensity to design buildings in a manner that made his job difficult; were clear lanes of fire and a lack of unnecessary ground clutter too much to ask for? Nevertheless, a relatively swift search of the massive cafeteria revealed nothing except more corpses, bloodstains, and shot-up furniture, floors, and walls.

"It's clear," Shepard called, "Bring the civvies in. Any word on support from the Normandy?"

"Less than ten minutes," Weiss reported, "Urdnot 'insists' on joining the part."

"Let him," Nihlus said, "Worst case, he'll buy us time to flee. Urdnot doesn't retreat."

"You don't have to be faster than the bear," Weiss said wryly.

"Just faster than the other guy," Sheila finished sarcastically, "Are you _trying_ to turn this into a horror movie?"

"Sheila," Weiss said, walking up to one of the Rachni corpses, this one having been killed by a series of mid-sized explosions under its carapace, spattering bug-guts all over the place, "We're already _in_ a horror movie. Looks like the bugs already lost though."

"_Here_," Sheila said sharply, "No telling what we'll find further in."

"Partially true," Nihlus interjected firmly, "No known species leaves their dead laying around in controlled territory. Which means either the Rachni lost, the fight's still carrying on further in the facility, or the end was recent enough that neither side has reclaimed this territory. It's also possible neither side has the remaining force to _do_ so, but that's unlikely."

"All of which mean we need to press on," Shepard said, before glancing at the Asari amongst them, "I don't suppose you know anything special about the Rachni?"

"No, Commander Shepard," T'Soni said, her complexion decidedly off-color as she inspected the bisected Rachni up close, "No specialized studies, just a part of my general history curriculum in university."

"Figures," Gravitz grumbled as they advanced towards the Cafeteria's only functional exit, "We bring along a Prothean expert, and run into _Rachni_."

((()))

"_Sir_," Sheila subvocalized from her position on point, "_You'd better have a look at this_."

'This' was a twisted lump of ice and steal blocking the center of the Cafeteria's other functional exit, a twisted mass with an Asari trapped in the middle of it.

An Asari wearing a Commando's low profile armor and insignia. An Asari who was drooling out the side of her mouth, as she feebly twitched, her eyes so slack they weren't even focusing properly in the low light.

Sheila had been, once again, taking point under stealth, the rest of the team remaining behind cover, and only advancing now that their tiny point-(wo)man had called the all-clear, and taken control of the next door's controls.

"No signs of gunshot wounds, or at least the bleeding appropriate to one," Sheila said as they approached, "But she's got some bruising around the face; the rest of her is too covered for me to tell much."

"Doctor T'Soni," Shepard called as he approached the entrapped commando, "Do you think you can get anything out of her?"

"I will try," Liara said, carefully approaching the trapped and crippled commando's face, gently cupping it in her hands, "If nothing else, I can attempt to soothe whatever trauma besets her."

The angle was poor, but Shepard could just make out T'Soni's eyes turning black, and for a long moment, she was still.

Then she turned around and vomited all over the icy floor.

"Oh _goddess_," she breathed, voice filled with horror, "Her mind is _gone_."

((()))

The N-7 team advanced into the next chamber in near-total silence; sound could not be totally suppressed in any environment other than a void, but one could come _very_ close.

And now, Shepard's team was _very_ motivated to be silent as they moved.

The chamber was a twisted wreck; where the dining hall they had entered through had been spoiled by a firefight, this chamber looked as though an entire war had been distilled down to fit within it. Dozens of Rachni corpses littered the floor, impaled through the chamber's metal walls. Some few remnants of humanoid bodies could be found; it appeared that in this chamber, the Rachni had not had time to finish _eating_ before they were interrupted. Piping and pumps mounted to the walls, had been shattered by explosive, blunt, and shearing forces, superheated steam poured out of one with a faint shriek, ice water melted off the glacier the facility was built into poured out of three more, turning the chamber's floor into a pool of bloody water and viscera, gradually overwhelming present drainage capacity.

And suspended from the (no longer readily accessible) second floor of the chamber, two more Asari Commandos were cocooned in the warped form of the steel ramps that used to allow passage between the two floors. One appeared to be catatonic, the other was shivering endlessly in her steel wrappings, but neither Shepard nor his team could tell if it was due to the cold, or mental trauma. The source wasn't immediately relevant to them one way or the other; once it had been reasonably assured that the Commandos were no immediate threat, Sheila and Gravitz took point, advancing further into the chamber.

There were two exits just past the Asari as the two advanced, one on the East wall marked to lead to the facility's power core, the other on the West wall and marked as leading to some form of rail station; Weiss advanced, and he and Sheila hacked both door's controls, ensuring they wouldn't be opened behind them while the rest of the chamber was secured. That accomplished, Weiss and Anderson advanced further into what appeared to be Peak 15's computer core, while Shepard moved up alongside Gravitz to provide covering fire if necessary.

The computer core, a doughnut-shaped room with the primary system control terminals in a hollow in the 'hole' of the doughnut, hadn't escaped the ravages of intense combat, but had apparently been built to endure much, its hardened electronics guarded by armored walls, and its critical systems and core interface accessible only via a recessed level below. A substantial portion of the hardware stored in recessed wall slots had been damaged in spite of the armor, great gashes ripped through the wall by what looked to have been enormous Omni-blades; some of the weapons used had apparently packed enough penetrative power to hole clear through the armor, which meant they were _not_ any form of weapon common to Citadel space.

Fortunately, the base's resident VI appeared to be active in spite of the massive amounts of system damage; Weiss interfaced with one of its consoles with his Multitool, and began seizing control of it. The digital security at Peak 15 was very tight, unsurprising considering the nature of such a research facility, but Weiss was N-7, and N-7 was the best the System's Alliance had to offer, of a quality with the Asari Commandos and STG, though who was 'the best' was a subject of contention.

While Weiss interfaced with the VI, Anderson signaled the others to move up; once they had taken up positions around the core of the chamber, she advanced under their cover. There was little else but another door at the end of the chamber; Sheila commandeered the door's controls, and signaled the all-clear.

"Nihlus," Shepard called, "We've got two more Asari, and a hell of a lot more mess than in the last room. I'm not sure if doctor T'Soni will be up for this."

"We'll see," Nihlus replied, but Shepard heard it more like 'She will be,' "Reinforcements from the Normandy have joined up with us, we're moving up to join you now."

The southern door opened, and a fire team of marines flowed through, taking up positions behind the damaged machinery that lined the walls. Another moved in after them, advancing roughly to the middle of the chamber; once the second team had made visual contact with the N-7 team, they signaled the all-clear, and the remaining marines, Ashley Williams in command, escorted the civilians into the room.

While Shepard's team, especially after Torfan, were about as jaded as it was possible to get without losing one's moral compass, and the Marines were disciplined enough to ignore it, Liara T'Soni and Tali'Zorah were in no way, shape, or form prepared for the carnage within. While the cafeteria had been liberally spattered with blood. The only corpses within were those of the Rachni; here, corpses, or more accurately _pieces_ of corpses, of a broad variety of Citadel races were easily visible.

Liara hunched over and threw up again; Tali spasmed in her encounter suit, and nobody else felt it quite appropriate to ask her if she'd done likewise within said suit.

"Looks like we've missed the party," Urdnot Wrex rumbled, stumping his way through the gore towards the trapped Asari, "Shame, looks like it was a real smash."

"I see you were, if anything, understating the condition of this chamber," Nihlus said rather grimly, nudging a part of a foot, still covered in the armor Noveria's guards favored, with one of his 'toes,' "It's been a long time since I've seen anything this bad."

"So lets get moving," Williams half-growled, "And keep it from getting _worse_."

"You're right Sergeant," Nihlus said, nodding briskly, before gently, but firmly, pulling Liara upright, "Doctor T'Soni, at this time I'm afraid I must ask you to either agree to aid us in uncovering what happened here, or return to the Normandy. I've no desire to stress you beyond what you can endure, and it is easier to protect one civilian than two."

Shepard, listening in over the the comm, frowned. He had no doubt that Nihlus had picked up on how worried T'Soni was for her mother during the trip to Noveria, and the Turian's words smacked of emotional manipulation. He shook his head a moment later, it wasn't his call to make, and they _were_ in some pretty extreme circumstances.

"I-I will do what I can," T'Soni half-said, half-stammered, then quickly picked her way across the bloody floor to one of the two entrapped Asari.

Her hands trembling slightly, the young Asari archeologist reached out to cup the Commando's face, and began to meld with her.

_Enraged eyes boring into her from mere centimeters away, flames so hot she couldn't tell if they were a delusion or real, oh goddess, let it stop, let it _stop-

_'Another wretched slave then,'_ _the thing that wore the flesh of a man said in her mind, its rage scouring her psyche, 'The first one was quite troublesome, but perhaps _this_ time..."_

Liara drew herself back, gasping, her heart quivering within her chest as she tried to decide whether the quivering terror, all that remained of the Commando's mind, at least that she could detect as yet, was better or worse than the Asari whose mind was utterly blank.

"Are you alright Doctor T'Soni?" Liara started slightly, and turned to see Shepard standing beside her, worry in his eyes, and a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"I-" Liara began, then realized she wasn't certain, and paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.

"I'm not certain," She said, "A being of great power invaded this Asari's mind, and crushed her psyche in the process. There is little left but fear, and her mind seems trapped in replaying the attack that broke her."

"_Crushed_ the psyche of an Asari Commando?" Nihlus said warily, "Not defeated, but _crushed_?"

"Whatever it was," T'Soni said hesitantly, smiling weakly at Shepard for a moment before shaking his hand off and walking towards the other trapped Commando, "It was incredibly powerful. I've never experienced anything like it before."

"Are you sure you're up for another one?" Shepard asked, pacing her as she moved to the other Commando, some worry evident in his voice.

"Whatever happened to these Asari," T'Soni said forcefully, "Someone needs to find out, and prevent a recurrence."

"Damn straight," Shepard said, his demeanor shifting from 'concerned' to 'grim determination' so quickly Liara found it unnerving, but she chose to ignore it, reaching up to touch the other Commando's face.

_Fearfearfearfear..._

Liara lurched back, gasping; this mind was more intact, but delving into it had reminded Liara that she was, in fact, a mere hundred years old, and Asari Commandos were all _elite _veteran warriors, having seen dozens of battlefields.

And most of all, possessed of a psyche far more used to the rigors and strains of mental combat than her own.

Liara reached out to touch the Commando's face again; Shepard moved to intercept her, scowling, but Nihlus held him back, and she made contact with the other Asari's face again.

_Fearfearfearfear..._

_Hello?_ Liara pushed through the morass of seething terror, _Please, you are safe now, how can I help you?_

The presence she had made contact with twitched, and Liara could feel the Commando trying to 'hide' within her own mind, stilling all thought and emotion as much as possible, though largely failing to suppress the fear.

_You're safe now_, Liara sent soothingly, _We've come to rescue you._

Silence, stillness, and then:

_Is he gone?_

_Yes,_ Liara passed along gently, _He's gone._

And the presence faded, as the Asari Commando dropped from her catatonia into true unconsciousness, ejecting Liara back into the physical world.

"Are you alright, Doctor T'Soni?" Shepard asked tentatively, catching the young Asari as she jerked back away from the Asari Commando, whose eyes were now closed.

"Actually," T'Soni said, speaking around a bitter laugh, "Considering that _she_ wasn't _completely_ insane, I think I'm actually a little bit better than I was before."

((()))

_Rachni warrior drones screamed as they scuttled around the power core's central shaft, too stupid to realize that the only reason they still stood was that their foes feared firing on the fusion piles with their heavy ranged weaponry._

_One of the Rachni rose high enough that its animalistic intelligence, as much instinct as true thought, recognized that it had come to a place from which it could strike effectively, and it hurled itself towards the gantry on the far side of the room, and the entity that it recognized as 'prey' standing thereupon. Its leap terminated in a bloody dismemberment, as it came down on a blade edged with spinning teeth, taking a moment to tear through the Rachni's armored carapace, before cleaving the beast in two._

_The figure wielding the blade, a massively armored humanoid with five fingers on each gauntlet, contemptuously kicked the corpse into the pit below._

"_Xenos scum," He snorted, his voice given a metallic tinge by whatever filters lay between his mouth and the exterior of the skull-like helmet he wore._

Liara stepped back from the Commando imbedded in the chamber's distorted wall, shivering slightly and breathing hard, but still mostly composed.

"D'hara," Liara said, turning to face Shepard and Nihlus behind her, "This Asari, I'm not entirely sure what happened to her, her memories are there, and I can feel her subconscious, but her conscious mind seems to have just disappeared."

"Some sapients respond to traumatic or deathly circumstances by simply shutting down," Nihlus said thoughtfully, "Attempting to avoid things by not thinking. We'd have to get her to a mind-healer to be sure, but in the meantime, as unpleasant as it may be, can you get anything about how this all happened from her?"

'This' was the state of Peak 15's reactor room; the cavernous chamber was nearly drowning in shattered Rachni carapace and viscera. Substantial chunks had been torn out of the walls, and impact craters from small explosive weapons pockmarked the ceiling and walls liberally. The reactor core and its supporting machinery, however, was entirely untouched, something that the entire expeditionary force was thankful for. One other difference within the chamber, was a number of sections along the Catwalk that showed characteristic signs of having been deformed by Biotic Warp fields. The rest of Shepard's team and William's Marines had spread out through the chamber, searching for other survivors or signs of still-active Rachni; none had been found yet.

"I can try," T'Soni said, "Her most immediate memories were of what looked like large combat mechs fighting the Rachni."

"Geth?" Shepard asked quietly, his gaze sharp.

"No," T'Soni said, shaking her head, "Definitely not Geth. Their construction was definitely either Asari or Human, judging by proportions and anthropological-physiological design aspects. The proportions were wrong for them to be piloted internally, but as at least one of them vocalized externally, they may have been directly controlled via remote uplink."

"Anything else?" Nihlus asked.

"I am uncertain," Liara said, visibly gathering herself before stepping up to the trapped Commando again, raising her hands to the unresponsive Asari's face, "I will have to investigate further."

_Small arms fire was useless, the armor was too thick; she 'holstered' her Assault Rifle with one hand and slipped a grenade from her belt with one smooth motion, flinging the disc-shaped antimatter explosive at the nearest of the armored giants. The powerful mech (or perhaps creature, she wasn't sure which yet) reacted with the same shocking speed she'd seen them all display, diving away from the explosive, but it wasn't enough; she/he/it was still caught up in the blast._

_A flash of brilliant light in a spherical shape caught D'hara, who was already moving to find new cover that would be more effective against the other giants, by surprise, and she twisted to face the being again. When the blast cleared, it revealed that while the grenade had had nowhere near the effect D'hara had desired, it _had_ cracked part of the creature's hip-armor, and-_

_THUD._

Liara pulled back, disoriented by the abrupt end of the Commando's memory, and shook her head slightly, trying to shake off the effect of reliving someone else's memory of being knocked senseless.

"Are you alright, Doctor T'Soni?" Shepard asked, clearly concerned.

"Fine," Liara replied reflexively, "The memory of D'hara being knocked upside the head was disorienting, even without personally suffering the physical effects of the trauma. Fortunately, there was something of use in this memory; she used an antimatter grenade, which succeeded in penetrating one of the entity's shields, and damaging its armor, though it was neither slain nor disabled, its performance did appear to be degraded."

"So whatever did this," Nihlus said with a sharp nod, "They aren't indestructible. Let's just hope Beneziah's Commandos softened them up some more before _we_ run into them. Let's move out."

"I hope we find them soon," Wrex rumbled, "Sounds like they'd actually put up a good fight."

((()))

_Rachni screamed, rushing Manaza's position, and she was steadily forced to retreat, her weapon's rate of fire insufficient to kill the insectile creatures as swiftly as they came, her Biotics not powerful enough to stop the Elcor-sized combat drones. She didn't expect to die, but she did expect she'd be forced to abandon her post, and in the service of Sovereign, that could be _worse.

_Harsh explosive reports and the heavy roar of a fully automatic weapon tore through the Rachni's screams, and massive bloody holes exploded into the creatures, cutting down one, two, half a dozen, _all_ of the warrior-drones as they pursued her past a T-junction. Manaza twisted in place, diving to the ground to take cover against the nearest wall. Advancing down the junctioned hallway was a single armored behemoth, its basic form like that of an Asari, but impossibly broad and massive; gripped tightly in its hands was an equally-immense weapon with a barrel as large around as her fist._

_One of the Rachni moved, trying to stand, and the weapon roared again, three thunderous reports from its barrel blasting the already half-dead Rachni to shreds._

_Manaza shivered; that was nothing that she wanted to fight, but the compulsion in her mind left her no choice; by Saren's orders all interference with the Peak 15 facility was to be removed. Her arms rose, decades of skill bringing her sniper rifle to bear, and firing a powerful round directly into the creature's skull-like helmet. A powerful energy field snapped into visibility as the round struck; it lacked the force to stop the hyper-sonic round Manaza had fired, but it did what was necessary, depreciating its velocity enough that it failed to penetrate the creature's helmet._

_Its weapon snapped around immediately, unleashing a torrent of ballistic death on the shadowy nook Manaza had been tucked away in, but the Commando was already gone, nowhere near fool enough to subject herself to that kind of firepower. Having hurled herself back into the hallway behind her, she then leapt up into the exposed utility works along the corridor's roof, taking advantage of her smaller stature to secrete herself alongside one of the heating ducts, in case the creature was equipped with thermal detection gear._

_It continued to stride slowly, steadily forward; she could not see it yet, but she could hear, _feel_ it's massive armored feet clanking against the deckplate as it advanced. Already beginning to sweat from her close proximity to the thermal duct, Manaza nearly flinched when a gout of flame burst into the T-junction, and quickly covered her face with her hands, while her armor shielded the rest of her. One of the Rachni below thrashed, letting out a half-garbled scream with partially-destroyed vocal apparatus; __another burst of explosive shells ended the scream permanently. A second burst of flame washed over __the Rachni corpses, setting some of them on fire, but no further screams emerged, and the walking tank cautiously nosed around into the junction, leading with his weapon, carefully glancing in both directions._

_When he turned to face the far corridor, Manaza struck, activating her Omni-blade and hurling herself down at her foe. Its reflexes were almost impossibly fast, its strength clearly unnatural, as it ducked and twisted on hearing the scarce whisper of her movement over the crackle of burning corpses, raising its massive weapon to block. Manaza's blade cut through the heavy firearm, surprising her with the amount of resistance it presented._

_Lithe as a cat, the Asari Commando bounced off of the weapon, which massed more than she did, even with her armor, twisting around to attack the creature's flank. It had discarded the massive weapon however, and an oversized knife, wrapped in a crackling energy field, clashed with her Omniblade. Nowhere near fool enough to let her blade be locked with that of a creature so much stronger than her, she let her Omniblade glance off, and unleashed a furious slashing assault._

_If Manaza was a panther, lithe, agile and deadly, the armored titan she fought was a Tiger, larger, more powerful, and every bit as swift, its agility hampered only by its armor as its arm moved like lightning to parry or block every single thrust or slash Manaza hurled at it. That deficit of agility was a critical difference however, and Manaza exploited her advantage ruthlessly, mindful that her Omni-blade would only last so long before overheating and forcing her Omni-tool to shut down. She had no idea if the energy field wrapped around her opponent's blade suffered from the same flaw, but her foe was entirely willing to give ground to compensate for his (its?) inability to properly guard against her assault._

_Desperation took Manaza in its claws; she doubted she could slay the being with a single blow to anything other than its head, it was simply too large and well-armored, while her slight frame and light armor offered her no such durability against such a powerful foe, especially one with the speed to keep up with her. Her offense was razor sharp, but it was the sharpness of the edge of a sheet of paper, as incredible in its fragility as it was surprising in its ability to wound. It was time for a desperation ploy; Manaza palmed a grenade in her off hand, and-_

_THUD._

_Darkness._

Liara wasn't sure if it was better, or worse, living through someone else being knocked unconscious for the second time. It was still an intensely disorienting experience, and she'd had no idea it was coming, and had no more opportunity to brace for it than Manaza had.

"This one was knocked out too?" Shepard asked, gesturing towards the Asari Commando T'Soni had just been mind-diving, "You've got that look on your face again."

"Yes, Commander," Liara said a little faintly, looking at the drooling Commando, caught in a disturbingly-large fold in the metal floor, "She had fought one of them to a standstill, more or less, when I suspect she was ambushed by another; she was knocked unconscious with absolutely no warning whatsoever."

"Fought to a standstill?" Nihlus asked sharply, "Please elaborate."

"She ambushed the entity from above," Liara elaborated, "With an Omni-blade. She destroyed its weapon, a large-bore automatic weapon firing explosive shells, and engaged it in melee. It utilized some form of exceedingly large combat knife that projected an energy field of its own, and had matched her for speed and dexterity, but its range of movement was somewhat hampered by its armor. Manaza, the Commando, pressed the offense, but was rendered unconscious before she could exploit a hole in it."

"Well then," Nihlus said, nodding decisively, turning to address the rest of the assault team, "We know that they've _some_ limits. Judging by the trail of bodies, they moved on to the Hot Labs, let's get down there ASAP."

((()))

_Thirava was the most junior member of her squad, she had only completed her training four years before Beneziah had begun her attempt to reign in Saren, and she was more terrified than she had ever been in her life. Saren hadn't scared her like this, realizing Beneziah's mind had been compromised hasn't scared her like this, realizing her _own_ mind had been compromised hadn't scared her like this (though she suspected the capacity to be afraid of it was part of what had been compromised), but when she had seen that creature..._

_Sovereign's control had been subtle. None of her sisters-in-arms had realized what was happening until it was too late; even the Matriarch hadn't noticed that her mind had been touched until she could no longer properly resist. _That Creature_ though, when _it _had touched her mind, it had been as subtle as a Turian Dreadnaught, slamming into her mind with more force than she had been able to comprehend, more force than she had _wanted_ to comprehend, and it had brought only one thing with it:_

Fear.

_Thiraya was ashamed of herself, curled in a ball and weeping as her sisters fought the armored juggernauts and the Rachni, but terror had taken hold of her like nothing she had ever known to exist before. She would have fled, but the COMMAND from Sovereign would not allow her to discard the imperative to 'deal with' any interlopers in its plan. So she lay there and wept, not even able to remove herself from the line of fire as people bled, screamed, and died around her._

_It didn't take long for her exposed position to bring her trouble the Rachni spearing her through the right arm, and impaling her abdomen while it was at it. It _did_ break her out of her reverie sufficiently to allow her to move, however. Not that crawling behind cover was going to save her from bleeding out; the razor-sharp Rachni tendril had taken out both her Omni-tool, and the backup on her belt. Without medigel, she couldn't manage anything remotely close to adequate treatment, and by the time she had dragged herself behind cover with her remaining arm (she couldn't feel her legs, and was fairly certain that her spine had been compressed at the least, if not severed), she could no longer hear the characteristic high-pitched 'crack' of Mass Effect weapons firing, just the scream of the Rachni clashing with the shriek of the armored giants' ridiculous saw-toothed weapons. _

_Propping herself up on her good arm (and realizing she had to be in shock to not feel the pain of her injuries), Thiraya glanced over the torn chunk of decking she had taken cover behind, and watched silently as the quintet of armored behemoths finished off the last of the Rachni warrior-drones. The other three Commandos of her cell were laid about, helpless, two twitching from some form of electric stun weapon, one trapped in the grip of a giant, its massive hands engulfing her hands, wrists, and forearms all at once._

_Thiraya recognized the last conscious Commando as Gisel, their cell's leader; the Matron was slamming Biotically-enhanced kicks towards the hulking giant's chest, but she only managed to pierce the energy barrier protecting its body roughly half of the time, and its armor easily avoided what remained of those blows. Twice Thiraya saw Gisel's arms begin to glow with biotic energy, but the giant just tightened its grip incrementally, and Gisel subsided, rather than have her hands reduced to bloody pulp. Being under the same compulsion as her immediate superior, Thiraya was certain that the only reason Gisel kept up the assault after it became clear it was ineffective, was that she _couldn't_ cease, Sovereign's COMMAND forbade her from surrendering while she was physically capable of resisting._

_Something touched her shoulder, and Thiraya turned to see-_

_It was smaller than the others, an objective part of her mind knew, but standing directly in front of her, wearing armor every bit as heavy, with a veritable arsenal of weaponry attached to its belt, it seemed so much larger than it truly was. She recognized the armor of the being that had done that _thing_ to her mind, filling it with terror, but now its helmet was removed, revealing to her the face of a human. A narrow face, with brilliant blue hair and red eyes (was she hallucinating?), but the skin tone, scraggly facial hair, and eyebrows were blatantly human traits, even if its coloration was not something she had known was possible for the species._

_Thiraya wasn't sure if having a face to attach to her fear made it better, or worse._

_Terror or no, now that the initial assault on her mind had ended, Thiraya intended to die like a Commando, and dropped back to the deck, attempting to draw her sidearm with her off-hand. She wasn't surprised that the creature (human?) seized her wrist with one of its hands, pinning it in place with machine-assisted strength, so she weekly tried to headbutt it, using its grip on her wrist for leverage._

_It felt like pounding her head into a wall, dazing her and ruining what little focus she had left. The creature laughed (_laughed!_) in response, before looking up and down at her body, and sneering in disgust at the ruin that remained of her right arm._

"_Such a waste," It said, and Thiraya's mind squirmed as she realized that it was speaking her native tongue, "You could have been a fierce warrior, given time."_

_Then it leaned forward to place its too-hard forehead against hers, touching her face and _oh goddess _touching her _mind _and-_

Liara sat back, withdrawing with considerably more control and composure than she had when melding with the previous Commandos, and looked up at the Spectre and N-7 operative standing watchfully over her. They were in the Rift Facility's tram station, what was left of it, anyways; they'd had to travel down the last fifty meters or so of the tram line on foot, as the line had been trashed by stray rounds from the firefight, and the platform itself, by the time the party had reached it, was less a 'platform' and more a 'half-shredded mass of deformed and warped deck plating with the occasional burning chair or eviscerated Rachni corpse thrown in for good measure.' The platform had _also_ been host to three Asari Commandos wrapped up in deck plating like beans in burritos, with Thiraya being the last, and most heavily injured, one that Liara had melded with.

"This Maiden, Thiraya, was a neophyte," Liara said as she slowly stood, accepting an offered hand from Shepard to help her up, "She had only been out of her training for four years when her unit went into Saren's service with Beneziah."

"I thought Commando squads customarily operated in groups of four when they had a neophyte amongst their number," Nihlus said, his eyes directing the words towards Liara as a question.

"They do," Liara said firmly, "One of Thiraya's last memories was of the hostiles holding her team leader, Gisel, captive, while her other cellmates were on the floor, unconscious."

"That fits the previous pattern," Nihlus said with a nod, turning to gaze around the trashed terminal again, "It looks like this was the site of a proper pitched battle, though it looks like Thiraya here was the only one wounded, aside from the Rachni. According to Garrus one of the participants was unquestionably using some sort of automatic energy weapon with a sizable power output."

"That would fit with what the other two remembered," Liara said with a nod towards the other two unconscious Commandos, who were being tended to by the medics of Shepard's N-7 team and Williams' marine team, "Thiraya suffered from some sort of Psychic attack at the onset of the battle though, and was paralyzed with terror for most of it, she wasn't even able to flee due to her terror, and was left vulnerable to the Rachni as a result."

"Any idea where this," Shepard said, gesturing towards the bulky metal collar sealed to the Asari's stump of an arm, "Came from?"

"No," Liara said, shaking her head, "Nothing before her mind was invaded, by what looked to be a human with unnatural coloration. There are two other particularly important things I was able to glean from her memory; first, unless that part of the memory was staged as a deliberate deceit, the armored creatures place a great deal of value on martial ability; Thiraya's potential as a warrior was explicitly mentioned. Second, unlike most of the others, Thiraya here is in a natural coma due to the trauma from her wounds; her mind, as disturbed as it is, is in no worse condition than any other who suffers from physical and emotional trauma."

"Well, that's something at least," Shepard said with a nod, "It looks like the corridor to the Secure Lab is completely caved in, so we'll be heading to the Hot Lab next, let's get moving."

"I'm starting to get bored," Wrex growled, "These guys already took all the good fights."

Liara didn't mention that in the memory, Thiraya's abdomen had been impaled; it was clearly intact in the present, and though it was rare, Liara knew that sometimes hysteria made certain details in memories blur, and Thiraya _had_ noted her own lack of pain...

((()))

Nihlus Kryik had seen many things on both battlefields and the scenes of firefights that were too small to be called proper battlefields, but were bloody nonetheless. Seeing the aftermath of an autopsy laid out on a metal deckplate, however, was a new one.

"Not the work of a sadist," Anderson was saying as she inspected the mutilated Rachni warrior's body, "The autopsy was post-mortem, it looks like a high-intensity laser shot to the head was the cause of death."

"Looking for intelligence on their enemies then?" Weiss asked, carefully not looking at the dead being's exposed entrails.

"Maybe they wanted to see of Rachni tasted good," Urdnot said with a fierce grin, "I know I tried, back in the day."

"No way to tell for sure, barring successful capture and interrogation of one of the unknowns," Sheila said with a shrug, standing and stepping away from the body as she spoke, "But that'd certainly be my guess; I can tell you I'll definitely be changing some of _my_ targeting priorities on the ugly little bugs after having a detailed look at their guts."

"That sounds like useful intelligence," Nihlus called from his self-appointed post by the lift that had brought them down to the Hot Labs, "Where should we be shooting, if we actually find any of them still alive?"

"Base of the body trunk," Sheila replied, "Major blood vessels, nerve clusters, and there's a band where their exoskeleton's protection is sparse, probably to keep from inhibiting mobility. It probably won't kill them, but it'll mission-kill them, crippling their mobility, and ruining their ability to effectively leverage their blade-tentacles or function as stable firing-platforms for their acid spit."

"I'll tell the men to keep that in mind," Williams said with a nod, "Anything else?"

"Nothing immediately relevant," Sheila replied, shaking her head, "The autopsy was _very_ thorough, cutting each organ open individually, and tissue samples were taken; whoever did this was probably looking for something. I'm not sure if they found it or not, but either way, it's not going to be immediately-relevant to this operation."

"The real question," Shepard said, gesturing for the team to move back towards the elevator shaft they came in through, "Is whether the Rachni, the unknowns, or Beneziah knew what Tartakovsky was trying to do down here."

"I'd certainly like to know if the unknowns are vulnerable to radiation weapons," Nihlus said, "But that'll have to wait until we recover one of them."

"Or they suddenly decide to get diplomatic," Williams snarked, "Though I don't see _that_ happening any time soon."

((()))

"_WHAT THE HELL?"_ Sheila screamed over the comm, leaping back around the corner she had just rounded before Shepard could voice a response.

A searing sequence of crimson bolts of coherent energy slammed into the corridor's wall, tearing into the steel-alloy.

"Contact?" Shepard asked flatly as Sheila rolled to her feet and braced against the corridor's wall.

"Contact," She agreed slightly breathlessly, "And it looks like they've got _automatic_ laser weapons."

"You don't say?" Garrus mused quietly, staring at liquefied metal running down the corridor wall, glowing white-hot from the the laser's heat transference, "And here I thought that was just a really _fast_ flamethrower."

"You're a real card, Vakarian," Weiss snarled, "I don't know about you, but I'm not too keen on getting into the line of fire of _that_ thing."

"Any idea how they detected you?" Shepard asked, ignoring the byplay between the Turian and his subordinate.

"Sound, I think," Sheila said grimly, "_I _couldn't even hear my footsteps, but as soon as I stepped onto the ice, they reacted."

"Could be residual thermals," Garrus said helpfully, "Your cloak may cover direct thermal detection, but they might have picked up the rise in heat on the surface of the ice from your foot."

"They'd have to detect it _through_ my foot," Sheila said flatly, "_Not_ likely."

"About as likely as detecting sub-audible sounds from what, forty meters away?"

"Fair enough," Sheila growled, but Nihlus cut her off before she could say anything further.

"Either way, we've no _solid_ idea how they detected you," the Spectre said forcefully, "And with the direct route blocked by cave-in, this is the only route to the Secure Lab; we're going to have to force our way through _somehow_."

"There's three of them," Sheila said, immediately all business again, "Neither were packing weapons as large as the automatic laser; it looked like the others were using high-caliber kinetic weapons, but I'm not familiar enough with their hardware to be sure."

"Send me the footage from your helmet cam," Nihlus and Shepard said simultaneously, glancing at each other for a moment, before Shepard nodded to Sheila, and she sent them both the requested data via comm laser.

_None_ of them were willing to risk open broadcast against opponents with such drastically superior technology.

"Sheila," Shepard ordered while he accessed the file, "Fiber-optics."

"Sir," Sheila replied with a nod, already unpacking a probe from its compartment on her armor.

"Vakarian, T'Soni," Nihlus called, "You should have a look at this as well."

Part of Shepard rebelled at the Turian Specter passing off classified information (or information that _would_ be classified as soon as the op was complete) so readily, but the Specter _did_ outrank him, and now that he thought about it...

"Those are definitely the entities from the Commado's memories," Liara announced, "I can't tell whether or not any of them are particular individuals from their memories, but they're definitely the same... model? Type?"

And as Shepard got his first look at the creatures for himself, he had to admit that they were imposing. Standing roughly eight feet tall, and covered completely in heavy, dark blue and green armor capped by helmets with a vaguely skull-like structure, with glowing red eyes (which Shepard decided _had_ to be an intentional intimidation tactic), John knew that such an appearance, coupled with the kind of combat performance Liara had described, could send a lot of green soldiers fleeing in terror instantly. Considering the massive weapon with the steaming barrel that one of them was holding, Shepard considered it likely he'd order a retreat himself. The breastplate, maybe his pauldrons and greaves, could _possibly_ take a hit from an energy weapon with that kind of firepower and not instantly kill him (Shepard glanced at the impact craters where the corridor wall had been hit; they were still glowing), but a headshot or hit to the gauntlet would probably kill him or cost him a hand instantly.

_Automatic_ laser weapons._ What the hell?_

Shepard did _not_ like the conclusion he was coming to, but the only viable one he could see, was that a new species had decided to poke their heads into galactic affairs, and were apparently posing as humans. He'd say that they had hired humans to serve as 'face' for their intrusion on Noveria, but the sort of mental assault Liara had repeatedly described was _not_ within the range of human abilities, ruling _that_ possibility out.

"Sir," Sheila said, her voice taking on the flat tone it did when she was speaking about something she didn't like, "They're gone."

"_Gone?_" Shepard asked, "They just disappeared?"

"Fell back, I'd guess," Sheila replied, "We know this cavern rejoins with the facility at the far end, maybe they're trying to lure us into the open before advancing again?"

"Shit," Shepard said, thinking furiously for several long seconds, "Send me your visual of the tunnel."

Sheila nodded, and forwarded the visual feed from the fiber-optic cable she had extended around the corridor. Shepard examined it carefully, Sheila helpfully panning the limited view of the broad, curved tunnel back and forth. As she had said, there was indeed no sign of the armored giants, but just as importantly there were a number of boulders (whether they were made of solid ice, or ice-covered stone, Shepard couldn't tell), that would provide cover if he needed it.

"Alright team," Shepard started, "New plan."

((()))

"_Cunning little bastards," A deep, amused voice said._

"_Resourceful would be more apt," A gravelly voice replied._

"_Notice the sheer patterns, lack of scoring or heat distortion on the deckplate he's using as a body shield?"_

"_Yes, most likely the work of more finely-applied 'biotics.'"_

"_I wonder of Librarian Athus could create such a fine cut when tearing up a piece of decking?"_

"_On decking that fragile? Indubitably. I'd like to see him attempt such a feat on the deck of a proper Imperial Vessel."_

_The first voice laughed._

((()))

"Well," Shepard sad flatly as they looked around the square ventilation chamber they'd advanced to, "It's official. I have _no idea_ what they're doing."

"They could just be so confident in their abilities that they see no problem with being backed into a proverbial corner," Garrus offered.

"I hope not," Nihlus said tersely, "As best we can tell, they were good enough to take an entire company of Asari Commandos. Suddenly, I'm wishing we'd brought more firepower with us."

"No such thing as too much firepower," Gravitz chipped in grimly, "Only unworthy targets. Considering how those things tanked anti-matter grenades, I don't think our targets are going to be unworthy."

"Omni-blades worked," Weiss said more cheerfully, "And the grenade _did_ do damage. What a lovely coincidence that we're one of what, twelve units in the combined Citadel militaries that carry the good stuff as standard equipment?"

"Fine coincidence there," Williams grumbled as she examined the ventilation room, pointing at a particular discolored spot on the shaft's bottom, "Looks like the Rachni used this as their access point to the entire rest of the damn facility. I don't like coincidences."

"Neither do I," Shepard said with a harsh nod, "Let's keep moving."

Shepard's squad went silent, as did Williams' marines, and the assorted non-humans that had accompanied them, and the advance began, this time with Gravitz on point, carrying the improvised shield they'd torn out of the facility's decking earlier. The team advanced in stages, one element covering the other as they moved from cover to cover, advancing first out of the room, through a smaller chamber with no readily-apparent purpose, which exited into a corridor with two exits, the nearer leading to the Secure Lab, the other leading off to Shepard didn't care _where_.

"Williams," He called, "Get part of your team up here to cover the other exit while we probe the Secure Lab."

"Affirmative sir," The Sergeant replied, and began directing her squad of marines with hand-signals, while Shepard's team of N-7 operatives prepared to breach the door into the Secure Lab.

Gravitz took up a covering position in the doorway to the ventilation room, scarcely peaking out from behind his mobile cover with his Assault Rifle as Sheila cloaked and prepared to open the door. Shepard himself lay prone behind the shield, the muzzle of his Sniper Rifle just peaking out from between the shield and the wall, roughly three square inches of his helmet exposed in exchange for his firing lane. Weiss just loaded up a handful of grenades, and prepared to lob them over the improvised shield if things went to hell.

Then Sheila opened the door, and they found themselves staring at a _fully conscious_ Asari Commando. Specifically, a fully-conscious Asari Commando with her arms and legs shacked, being held in place by a massive armored hand wrapped around her waist, with an absurdly large pistol being held against her head. Behind her, stood two armored behemoths, one occupied holding her, the other standing partially behind and to one side of the first, holding the automatic laser weapon at the ready.

"**We wish to negotiate,**" The one holding the Asari rumbled out in perfect English, its modulated voice completely destroying the rest of what Shepard (and the rest of their party) had expected to find when the door opened.

"Negotiate what?" Nihlus replied promptly.

"**We will remand this Xeno into your custody,**" The second behemoth replied in perfect Turian, "**In exchange, there will be no interference in the Inquisitor's fight with Beneziah.**"

"..._What?_" Garrus asked from his position around the corner, completely bewildered; he had been involved in hostage negotiation before, and they were _not_ supposed to go like this.

"Beneziah has intelligence we need," Nihlus replied flatly, "We can't just let you walk away with her."

"**Terms are **_**non-negotiable**_**,**" The first giant boomed, "**This one doubtless retains some of the intelligence you desire. I neither know, nor control what the Inquisitor will do with Beneziah **_**after**_** the fight, and terms do not include what **_**you**_** do after the engagement has been completed. Terms are custody of this Xeno in exchange for non-interference during the fight, nothing **_**more**_**, nothing **_**less**_**.**"

"And if we do not agree?" Shepard asked sharply.

"**We see whether or not your subordinate's anti-matter grenades can pierce our shields without cracking the containment on the nuclear reactors that power our armor,**" The second giant said flatly, "**And how many of you will die to my Multi-laser before those grenades are adequately deployed.**"

Tense silence lasted for less than ten seconds; Nihlus acted decisively, something that Shepard appreciated.

"What guarantee do you require that we will not interfere?" Nihlus asked warily.

"**Your word of honor, and that of Commander Shepard,**" The first giant declared.

"That's _it?_" Garrus breathed incredulously, "No hostages, no disarming?"

"**These are the terms our superior directed is to give,**"The second giant replied flatly, "**If they are acceptable to our Captain, they are acceptable to us.**"

"Done," Nihlus said immediately, "You have my word not to interfere with your 'Inquisitor's' fight with Matriarch Beneziah."

"And my word as well," Shepard said more reluctantly, his instinctive distrust of the unknowns warring with his instinctive desire to save the Asari's life.

"**Agreed,**" The first giant boomed out, and Shepard _swore_ he could detect a hint of a smirk in the being's voice, "**You should feel honored at the privilege to negotiate with Astartes on equal terms, you are the first to do such within this galaxy.**"

The giant preempted any response by casually tossing his captive Asari at Shepard's team; Sheila caught the Commando with a Biotic lift, before gently setting the blue-skinned being down and beginning a medical inspection. In the meanwhile, the pair of giants near-silently fell further back, a second door opening behind them, which lead into the Secure Lab.

"Let's move Shepard," Nihlus said lowly as he studied the Asari Commando, "My gut tells me we don't want to miss this."

"Sheila, Weiss," Shepard said, nodding towards the Asari Commando, "Keep an eye on her, and see if she's got anything useful."

The Specter and N-7 Commando advanced cautiously, passing through the intermediary corridor that the 'Astartes' had occupied, until they reached the door which led to the lab itself, the hardened metal barrier automatically moving out of their way. Beyond, was a massive, multi-tiered cavernous lab, its lowest level occupied by heating elements, humidifiers, and other machinery that Shepard didn't recognize. Above the equipment mounted to the floor ran a number of catwalks, all of them large enough to host an industrial forklift, some with computer control stations Shepard assumed governed the machinery, some with a variety of sealed crates lining them (most with bio-hazard labels). The catwalks ramped up and down, and it was on a platform at the apex of these ramps that hosted the target of Shepard and Nihlus' mission on Noveria.

Matriarch Beneziah stood between an armored humanoid form, this one merely large for a human, not impossibly huge, and an enormous armored isolation chamber, engaged in a furious exchange of blades. 'Stood' was something of a misnomer, the Asari Matriarch veritably _danced_ around her foe's blade, a meter-long weapon wreathed in a crackling energy field. Her own weapons, a slim combat knife and an omni-blade, both wove back and forth with sinuous grace, and it was readily apparent to a trained eye (such as those of an N-7 Commando or a Specter) that she was easily more skilled than her opponent.

Her opponent, however, was no slouch; moving like a cat in his heavy armor, wielding his sword like an artist in one hand, a pistol in the other. Between his larger size and longer blade, he had a decisive reach advantage over the Asari Matriarch, and his pistol (which was occasionally loosing _laser_ beams) forced her to remain close enough to prevent him from getting a clear shot at her. Shepard knew that to many who had never fought seriously with blades, especially those who watched 'action' movies for fun, the skill both combatants displayed would be severely underestimated, but Shepard (and every other N-7 operative) could see _exactly_ how much skill was on display.

The first defining factor was Beneziah's superior skill; she was simply _better_ than her opponent; her movements more deft, her balance more precise, her strength perfectly utilized. The second factor was the man's armor; it was heavy, and clearly power-augmented, giving him absolutely overwhelming strength relative to the Asari Commando, as well as making him functionally immune to damage from mundane bladed weapons. The third dimension added was Beneziah's Omni-blade, granting her the ability to cleave through said armor, as a number of rents from light blows already showed. The fourth was added by the man's crackling blade, a weapon the like of which none of the strike team had ever seen before; between its superior length, and its ability to clash with the Omni-blade without sustaining damage, as well as its probably ability to slay Beneziah with a single blow.

The fifth dimension of combat was added by both combatants awareness of all said factors, the armored swordsman focusing on engaging Beneziah's Omni-blade or laying a blow out that _forced_ the matriarch to retreat. The sixth and final dimension was added by the man's laser pistol, presenting instant death Beneziah should she retreat out of melee range. All of this was wrapped up in the factors presented by their environment; Beneziah taking advantage of her lesser mass to maneuver over, on, under, around, and through the catwalk's railings, the massive support girders that ran between the chamber's floor and ceiling, and the crates strewn throughout.

Shepard had never been happier in his life that he was a sniper; he intensely doubted he would ever be able to keep track of so many factors in a fight, and he _knew_ that if he survived so long as a _single second_ against either opponent in melee, it would be due to sheer luck. Considering what the 'Astartes' had been willing to offer in exchange for a guarantee not to interfere in the fight, considering that they had only required his _word_, considering what he saw before him right then and there, Shepard decided that yes, Doctor T'Soni had been right, they _were_ some form of warrior society. And a damn terrifying one too.

The knife/sword fight lasted nearly a minute after Shepard and Nihlus arrived to watch (Shepard was peripherally aware of T'Soni moving up behind him as well), the last ten seconds of which Beneziah spent on an offensive blitz, scoring several more gashes in her foe's armor, focusing around his waist. When Beneziah's Omni-blade failed, doubtless from exhaustion of Beneziah's store of Omnigel, Nihlus and Shepard had to seize Liara by her shoulders to keep her from rushing into the room. Beneziah had known her blade was on the verge of failing, however, and made a final assault as it sputtered, targeting not her opponent, but the pistol he held in his right hand, hurling herself bodily at his arm, and using both hands to force the weapon of his grip, before launching herself away, and rising in an elegant roll, facing the man again.

Her foe simply swept another weapon from his waist, leveling it at the Asari and pulling the trigger, even as Beneziah opened fire with her pilfered weapon. Beneziah's purloined pistol fired, a narrow stream of ruby light lashing at an energy shield that leapt into view around the man; his weapon, however, did _not_ fire.

"You clever little Xeno witch," The man's distorted voice rumbled out through external speakers on his armor, rife with amusement and a tinge of respect, "It has been _centuries_ since I have been so thoroughly disarmed."

And disarmed he was, Shepard noticed with a glance at the man's waist; his helmet's optics allowing him a view sufficiently magnified to be useful, it looked as though the man kept a full dozen pistols at his waist. The weapons were of radically different makes and models, some clearly projectile weapons, some similar enough in appearance that Shepard thought them more laser weapons, some like nothing else he had ever seen. All shared a common 'feature,' however, they had been crippled by strikes from Beneziah's Omni-blade.

"You are a formidable opponent," Beneziah said, and Liara trembled in Shepard's grip as she heard her mother's voice for the first time in years, "No less skilled than your weapons are deadly; I can see now why you and your soldiers were able to overcome my Commandos."

"I've not had a fight this lively since..." The armored man's voice trailed off for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was considerably less amused, and had taken on a grim note, "Since treachery beyond measure."

He strode forward, advancing on the Asari Matriarch, who smoothly backed away as the man advanced.

"Tell me, _Beneziah_," He bellowed, "Why you came to this place, why you meddled with such a race as these 'Rachni?'"

"My goals are beyond your comprehension," Beneziah said calmly, withdrawing her own pistol, and replacing her pilfered weapon in its holster, "Perhaps in time you could come to enlightenment, but your interference here cannot be tolerated, and you must be slain before you can further interfere with Saren's plans."

Liara trembled in Shepard's grip again, and would have lurched forward into the lab if she hadn't been restrained.

"I've heard nonsense such as yours from Men, Xenos, and Daemons alike over the centuries," The man snarled, ignoring rounds pinging against his shield as Beneziah opened fire with her pistol, "All of them lay defeated, all but a handful dead by my hand or those of my servants. Give me _one_ good reason not to strike you down where you stand for what you did to _your own soldiers!_"

He continued to advance, and Beneziah continued to retreat, turning with the course of the catwalk, putting her back to Shepard. Beneziah was not a small Asari. In fact, she was rather tall for her race, but as she retreated towards Shepard, and the 'Inquisitor' advanced after her, Shepard realized just how stark the size disparity was, the man in his massive armor looming over her even from well out of arm's reach.

"I need only _one_ reason," Beneziah said, halting her fire briefly, "You lack the _ability_."

Beneziah's left hand lanced forward, her hand closing into a tightly-clenched fist as it did so, and an intensely bright Biotic field leapt into existence around the man. He snarled, flinging his arms up and outwards, dispelling the field contemptuously.

"Foolish Witch," He snarled, a shimmering ball of force coalescing in his hand as he spoke, "Your arrogance will be your undoing."

"It already has," Beneziah said sadly, before raising a barrier of shimmering force to absorb the Inquisitor's force-bolt.

Shepard was a Biotic. Sheila was a Biotic. Liara, being an Asari, was also a Biotic. What followed that first exchange of kinetic fire, was like nothing _any_ of them had seen before.

Beneziah focused a matched pair of gravitic currents, flowing in opposite directions, against each other, creating a plane of shearing force. Shepard had never seen a Biotic technique like it before, and when the Inquisitor deflected it, with a forceful backhanded gesture, it sliced through the catwalk's solid steel surface like an Omni-blade through jello. The Inquisitor counted with a simple, overwhelming wave of force, three meters high and a dozen wide. Beneziah leapt over the wave; Shepard raised the strongest Biotic barrier he could over the entrance; a moment later it was reinforced by another from Sheila. Shepard's barrier collapsed as it was struck by the wave-front, as well as shards of steel it had dragged up from the catwalk, Sheila's absorbed the remaining force without failing.

A pair of heavy crashes marked the Astartes being smashed into the wall on either side of the door by the wave of force; if it had any injurious effect upon them, Shepard couldn't tell through their armor.

"Thanks Sheila," Shepard called quietly, before firmly shaking Liara's shoulder, "Doctor T'Soni, I'm going to need to ask for your assistance if something like that happens again."

Shepard had to shake her again before she responded, giving only a distracted nod, her attention focused on her embattled mother.

Beneziah had latched onto one of the four primary support struts that ran through the interior of the building, and was launching a rapid flurry of simple blasts of force down at the Inquisitor, who was slapping them aside with one hand, while his other gathered another accumulation of force. Beneziah frowned, and stepped up the pace of her barrage, but the Inquisitor still finished gathering his energy, unleashing a substantially more powerful force bolt before the Asari could disrupt his concentration.

Leaping backward, Beneziah used her grip on the strut as a pivot point, spinning back out of view of the Inquisitor, leaving the bolt of kinetic energy to slam into the edge of the strut, substantially deforming its edge. Not wasting a second, the Inquisitor immediately turned and stomped back towards the center of the lab, which with the strut deformed partly out of the way, Shepard could now more clearly see the enormous Rachni Queen in her stasis cell. The Inquisitor began forming a pair of bolts, one in each hand, forcing Beneziah to act.

The Asari Matriarch lunged down out of the shadowy recesses of the chamber's ceiling, another, far more intense shearing wavefront leading the way downward. The Inquisitor unleashed both bolts of force up at the Asari, but they were simply cleft in twain by her Biotic blade, and he was forced to hurl himself aside. Ducking and rolling smoothly to his feet, he turned to face Beneziah, energy coiling around his clenched fists as the black-clad Asari deftly twisted her metaphysical weapon around, splitting it, and taking a knife-fighter's stance again.

His arms sheathed in a crackling wreath of energy, the Inquisitor lowered his center of gravity and advanced swiftly, but smoothly, on the smaller Asari. Beneziah lashed out with one of her blades, sharp beyond what was physically possible, and the Inquisitor parried with an open palm, before lashing out with his other arm; Beneziah parried the fist with her other blade, smoothly balancing redirection of her opponent's force with shifting her own body out of alignment with the blow.

The Inquisitor pressed his assault, absorbing a half-dozen strikes on his arms, the coruscating field of energy somehow blocking Beneziah's gravitic blades, as he sought to lay a single decisive blow against his smaller and less well-protected adversary. Not one to endlessly repeat a failed tactic, Beneziah ducked low, taking advantage of her shorter stature to attack the Inquisitor's legs. The man had clearly been expecting the move, as he withdrew his forward leg almost before she had begun to strike, her blow barely scoring the armor over his knee, before slamming his left fist straight downward.

Beneziah twisted in place, bending her spine backwards into nearly a U-shape, the armored giant's fist passing between her pelvis and shoulders on its way down to the decking of the catwalk. The catwalk's surface exploded downwards, a two-meter radius of sheet metal somehow shredded by the Inquisitor's single blow. Both lost their balance and footing, instinctively retreating; recovery came seconds later, and they sprinted around the new hole in the catwalk's floor, re-engaging in furious melee, the Inquisitor more cautious about exposing his legs, Beneziah more wary of ambushes laid.

They danced in and out of Shepard's sight, the damaged support strut partially obscuring his view of the fight, but his keen eyes picked up on one clear detail as the seconds crawled past in furious inhuman combat. The wreath of energy surrounding the Inquisitor's arms was slowly spreading, covering first his upper torso, then his head and abdomen, and beginning to gradually creep down over his legs, rendering him increasingly immune to Beneziah's weapons. When the protective sheath crept down below his knees, Beneziah disengaged, leaping back across the recently-added hole in the catwalks, and rejoining her two gravitic blades into one larger, more intense weapon.

The Inquisitor immediately leapt after her, descending upon her in a dive, leading with his elbows, synthetically-distorted voice snarling out a wordless challenge. Beneziah met the challenge, swinging her larger blade around like a baseball bat to meet the man's dive, and employing (_another_) technique Shepard hadn't even thought _possible_ with Biotics, converted all of the energy invested in her blade's formation into kinetic force upon the instant it made contact, smashing him away with spine-shattering force.

Metal shrieked and stone cracked as the Inquisitor slammed through machinery that Shepard couldn't see clearly and into the lab's wall, then for a moment, the lab was silent, save for Beneziah's slightly heavy breathing.

Then a barrage of crates and crushed machinery were hurled from beyond Shepard's field of view slashed across the cavernous lab towards Beneziah. The Asari gracefully slipped out of the way, looking more like a dancer putting on an exhibition than a warrior locked in mortal combat. The second barrage was larger, and focused more tightly to prevent Beneziah from slipping through it; the Asari dove through the hole in the catwalk in front of her, and out of the line of fire, disappearing into the heating equipment and medical machinery built into the lab's floor.

Harsh clanking sounded as the Inquisitor strode back into view, storming along the catwalk that lined the lab's perimeter, decoupling shattered and deformed gauntlets as he did so, revealing forearms and hands now covered only in a body-glove. A veritable cloud of crates and debris were swept up around him, every loose article that the man passed joining the swarm as he moved. Beneziah's counter-attack came from directly beneath the man, violently tearing through the catwalk, but if she had hoped to catch him off-guard, she was disappointed.

The man sidestepped the lance of Biotic energy Beneziah hurled upwards at him before it had even finished penetrating the catwalk, quite a feat as Shepard didn't even _notice_ it until it tore through the catwalk, a process that took less than half a second. The Inquisitor responded by stomping harshly downward, caving in the catwalk beneath him, sending it crashing onto the lab's floor below, his cloud of 'stored' projectiles falling with him. An improvised spear, formed from a torn section of catwalk railing wrapped in a purple Biotic field, shrieked out of the maze of machinery on the lab's floor, breaking the sound barrier with a thunderous crack, before being stopped dead by the Inquisitor's energy field.

The Inquisitor responded by saturation-bombarding the area the spear had emerged from with his entire accumulated payload, keeping _nothing_ in reserve as he attacked. The brute-force attack worked, to a degree, as Beneziah was forced up out of the machinery along the lab's floor, a graceful Biotically-enhanced backflip landing her on the catwalk opposite the chamber from the Inquisitor, and for a brief moment, the two simply stared at each other.

Then the Inquisitor ripped upwards with both of his hands, and the catwalk Beneziah stood on, and that a good few meters to either side of her, was torn upward off of its mountings; Beneziah responded by initiating a Biotic charge towards her opponent. She narrowly escaped being crushed by the torn section of catwalk folding in half, breaking the sound barrier _herself_ before slamming into the Inquisitor's barrier.

"What made you think you could pierce my shield where your spear could not?" The Inquisitor asked disdainfully.

"I didn't," Beneziah said, faint amusement in her tone, before opening her fists, and allowing a pair of narrowly-focused spears of Biotic energy to lance in towards the Inquisitor's helmet.

Even at point-blank range, the Inquisitor still managed to raise a partial shield, though it collapsed before fully absorbing the second lance, smashing into his helmet, cracking it and tearing half of it off. Shepard watched in silent disbelief as the rest of the helmet slowly slipped off, revealing an amorphous mass of features where a head and face should have been. One moment, the features were clearly those of a Turian male, before smoothly slipping into those of a Batarian of indeterminate gender, then a human female, then an Asari, then morphing into a black human female, then a Salarian, then...

It didn't stop, the shape and face of the head continually changing, never repeating a particular face, the only pattern being a slight tendency towards human features over those appropriate to aliens.

"What are you?" Beneziah uttered in quiet horror, instinctively backing away from the Inquisitor as he/she/it shook off the shattered remnants of its helmet.

"I and those who follow me come from beyond this Galaxy," the..._being said, _its voice just as amorphous as its features, twisting through baritone, tenor, soprano, the flanging resonance of Turians, the ephemeral resonance of Hanar, everything and anything Shepard had ever heard.

"We came to this place to test the strength of your civilizations," It continued, stepping forward towards Beneziah, who swiftly stepped back, maintaining their separation, "I find your people to be... _vulnerable_."

The being's final word sent a chill down Shepard's spine, and he glanced at Nihlus, seeing grim wariness in the Turians face, before glancing back at the members of his team watching through Sheila's fiber-optics, to see similar levels of disturbance and determination on their faces. When he returned his attention to the lab, he found that Beneziah was looking his direction; no, more specifically, she was looking at _Liara_, and after a moment, her face took on a grim resolution, a furious determination that had not been present before.

"You will find no _weakness_ here," Beneziah declared, turning back to bring her full attention to bear on the unmasked being in front of her, her voice bearing the full weight of authority a seven hundred year old Asari Matriarch could bring to bear, "I'll not let a threat such as you walk out of here _alive_."

Shepard glanced surreptitiously at the two 'Astartes' flanking the door he was watching from, but their armored forms didn't so much as shift weight in response to their superior's exchange with the Asari, only their torsos moving in the steady rhythm of breathing let him know that they weren't just machines.

Beneziah attacked again before Shepard could spare them any further attention, lashing out with a single lance of hyper-focused Biotic force aimed at the 'Inquisitor's' now-exposed head, if the amorphous appendage even truly counted as such. The Inquisitor dodged the blow before it had even fully formed, Beneziah's lance of force instead tearing a divot into the lab's wall behind him, then lunged forward, shifting mouth open as though he intended to take a bite out of the Asari in front of him.

Shepard recognized an intimidation move when he saw it, even from such a strange creature; it utterly failed to faze or unnerve Beneziah though, who simply shifted around the Inquisitor's attack, and slammed a backhand blow into his shoulder, Biotic force sending the man/creature smashing through two of the radiator stacks before a third stopped him, deforming catastrophically in the process. It took 'him' less than a second to lurch back to his feet and shake off the impact, but Beneziah pushed her attack relentlessly, one hand now 'holding' a gravitic knife, as the other, re-activated Omni-blade extended (part of Shepard wondered when she had managed to pick up more Omni-gel), swept in towards the Inquisitor's 'throat.'

His own sword whipped out to deflect the Omni-blade, but he was forced to take the other on his shoulder, and the gravitic blade finished what Beneziah's earlier blow had started, shattering the massive pauldron. The Inquisitor largely ignored the blow, utilizing his superior mass and strength to take control of their locked blades, pushing Beneziah back for a moment, which was enough for him to gather energy for a more forceful move.

A cylindrical wave of force erupted outwards from the Inquisitor, tearing apart several pieces of machinery around him; Beneziah erected a Biotic shield, and used it to ride the wave up and away from the Inquisitor, leaping up and into the machinery built into the Secure Lab's ceiling again as it petered out. The Inquisitor immediately began launching bolts of force up into the machinery, tearing weaker pieces of hardware apart, and damaging hardier pieces as he sought to flush out his opponent.

The Matriarch, however, was a consummate special forces operative, and was beyond simply skilled in stealth; the Inquisitor's barrage continued for more than a minute as a steady purple-blue glow build along the ceiling, but he never struck Beneziah. The glow of Biotics increased, spread across the entire roof, until it was almost painful to look at, before Beneziah finally abandoned her cover, and descended on the lab floor, riding a massive wave of Biotic force _extending the length and breadth of the entire lab_.

The wave warped the four primary structural supports within the chamber, tearing the already-warped one down altogether, before smashing into the Lab's floor, crushing every remaining intact piece of machinery therein. Shepard saw the Inquisitor raise another shield, before the impact kicked a cloud of dust, smoke, and debris just thick enough to limit visibility into the air. The Astartes, caught only by the edge of the wave of force, simply shrugged its impact off, like they had everything else in the fight thus far.

As visibility slowly cleared, Beneziah became visible standing atop the fallen girder, carefully studying the lab around her, watching carefully for signs of her opponent. She didn't have long to wait, as a massive bolt of force launched out of the rubble that now blanketed the lab's floor; even with a swiftly-raised shield, Beneziah was knocked back off of the enormous girder (driving the girder itself back several meters as well), and Shepard found himself actually stepping forward into the lab itself so that he could see where she landed.

Beneziah landed more clumsily, panting with exertion, sweating profusely, and Shepard could see signs of the unnaturally-high heart-rate that 'chiller' drugs induced in a Biotic when they used them to allow more rapid utilization of their abilities. The Inquisitor, when he/she/it staggered into view, looked worse. A red liquid that Shepard suspected was blood was smeared across the torso of his heavy armor, and the plating over one leg was cracked. The power-augmentation on that section of the armor also appeared to have failed, as the Inquisitor half-lurched, half limped towards Beneziah, glowing blade in one hand, coalescing sphere of energy in the other.

Beneziah made a frustrated sound, halfway between a groan and a growl, before lurching forwards towards the Inquisitor, her gravitic blade coalescing in her hands as she moved. As they approached each other, Beneziah's gait regained its trademark grace, as best as was possible when moving across the shattered machinery and rubble that littered the lab's floor, but the Inquisitor simply continued to limp onwards, hurling balls of force as he advanced. Beneziah slapped the first few aside with her blade, then leapt as the fourth was directed not at her, but the debris beneath her feet.

Spinning around mid-leap, Beneziah wound herself around for a cross-body blow with her gravity blade, a posture that allowed for either a swift parry or a powerful double-handed blow. The Inquisitor thrust his own blade, crackling with energy, upwards to meet the descending Asari; rather than attempt to parry the blow, Beneziah twisted in place, taking the sword through the abdomen rather than the chest, and swept her gravity blade across the Inquisitor's midsection, cutting him in half at the waist.

Beneziah landed in a painful half-roll, even with finely-controlled Biotics she was hard-pressed to avoid tearing the Inquisitor's sword further through her body as she landed, but she was not a living legend without reason, and managed to roll to her feet without severely aggravating the already near-mortal injury. Not one to make assumptions, she came to her feet facing the Inquisitor's top half, gravity blade held ready in one hand, while her other kept the blade sticking through her intestines steady.

The Inquisitor did not move; even the amorphous shifting of his features faded away, revealing a human face with a rather mundane shape, even if it possessed blue hair and red eyes. Beneziah, Shepard, _everyone_ stared silently at the fallen figure for long, _long_ seconds, waiting for any sign of movement, a twitch in the fingers,. The eyes focusing rather than staring sightlessly up at the lab's ceiling, _anything_.

Nothing came, Shepard saw no movement of breath, and his sensors detected no pulse on the skin of the man's throat. Eventually, Beneziah breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to face the doorway where Shepard, Nihlus, and her daughter stood, flanked by the pair of Astartes.

"Must I kill you as well?" She demanded imperiously, staring directly at the Astartes, "Or will you surrender now that your master is dead?"

The Astartes were silent, and made no movement beyond breathing for a full minute; eventually, Beneziah turned her attention to the other three in the doorway.

"It's good to see you, Little Wing," She said, her voice soft and tired rather than hard and commanding as she addressed Liara, "Though I wish our meeting were under better terms. Did you find any survivors amongst my Commandos?"

Liara lurched forward, but Nihlus and Shepard restrained her forcibly.

"We've found more than a dozen in various states of catatonia," Shepard said flatly, "And we've got one right here who's-" He glanced back at Sheila, who answered his implied question with a series of silent handsignals, "Exhausted and restrained for questioning. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to submit yourself to arrest, ma'am."

"I wish I could," Beneziah said sadly, a bittersweet smile on her face, "But I can only fight Saren's control for so long, it is best I simply die here."

"**NO!**" Liara screamed, thrashing desperately in Shepard and Nihlus' grip, "_Don't leave me!_"

"Would that I could return to you, Little Wing," Beneziah said tenderly, "But Sovereign, the dreadnaught Saren commands from, there is something about it that whispers in your mind, and the longer you are aboard, the longer you lose yourself. My soldiers, my daughters, lost themselves after just months," Beneziah closed her eyes tiredly for a moment, before opening them and speaking again, her voice haunted, "I have been aboard that vessel cumulatively for three years. I can fight the control for brief moments, when I find need of the utmost importance drives me, like now, to protect you," Beneziah smiled sadly at her daughter, "But I cannot stave off the control forever."

"_No..._" Liara breathed, agony in her voice as she began to sob, still halfheartedly trying to break free of Shepard and Nihlus, "_Mother..._"

For a long moment, no one spoke, Shepard had no idea what to say, Nihlus decided that silence had the best opportunity of gathering more intelligence (and giving a mother a final moment with her daughter), the Astartes followed their customary implacable silence, and all anyone could hear was Liara crying.

Then every electronic device within the lab failed simultaneously, and a roar of flames leapt to life behind Beneziah.

"**Forever,**" A deep voice boomed, "**Will not be necessary.**"

Beneziah lunged forward, twisting around as she did so, turning to face the 'corpse' of the Inquisitor. A 'corpse' which had burst into flames, a flame which melted the nigh-impregnable armor the Inquisitor had been wearing into a molten puddle, before a bare torso erupted from the flow of liquid alloy. His body a literal incarnation of flame, no flesh, no machinery, no bone, _nothing_ visible but the torso of a man crafted from intense, white-hot flame, the Inquisitor rose from the melted and burning remnants of his battle garb, legs of flame being dragged up into place as they burst free from the lower half of his armor.

"**Three hundred years of combat experience,**" The Inquisitor bellowed, glowing crimson eyes locked on Beneziah, "**Superior equipment, superior preparation, and **_**still**_** you best me."**

A vicious smirk grew on the fiery apparition's face, and it took a single, menacing step towards Beneziah.

"**So long as I limited myself to like abilities, that is,"** He said, a feral edge to his voice, "**You triumph even over the shackles within your own mind, and all for a **_**Just Cause**_**."**

He took another step towards Beneziah, he drew herself fully upright, and formed her gravitic blade for the first time that night.

"**I have not met a warrior I respected more for two hundred years,"** The Inquisitor declared, "**I cannot abide for you to die the unwilling slave of a would-be galactic tyrant. I shall be taking you with me.**"

His left hand lashed out; Beneziah raised a shield to block his attack, but rather than a bolt of force, a cascade of lightning erupted from his fingers, completely ignoring Beneziah's shield, and slamming into her body with merciless force. Beneziah thrashed on the ground for a handful of seconds before the Inquisitor halted the flow, and she collapsed to the shattered floor, unconscious. A second gesture caught her in a telekinetic grip, and began levitating her towards the Inquisitor.

"NO!" Liara snarled, lashing out with a Biotic blast of her own, which the Inquisitor deflected with an almost casual gesture.

The Astartes by the doors moved for the first time since the battle had ended, one raising his heavy laser, while the other moved with blinding speed, a blow with the flat of his hand rendering Liara unconscious before Nihlus and Shepard realized they had allowed themselves to become fatally complacent regarding the armored guards.

"Hold!" The Inquisitor shouted, his flaming body coalescing into flesh once more, allowing him to gently pick Beneziah up with his own hands, "We need make no further enemies here."

The Astartes backed off, but the heavy laser was not lowered.

"Brother-Sergeant," The Inquisitor ordered as he fished his laser pistol out of Beneziah's holster, "Return to the ship, I shall follow on my own."

"**Affirmative**," the Astartes not holding the heavy laser replied with a nod, before the pair of them _disappeared, _leaving only a discharge of static electricity in their wake.

"Here," The Inquisitor called, tossing the laser pistol across the lab towards Shepard, who caught it reflexively with the hand _not_ occupied holding Liara's insensate form, "Give that to the girl. It has seen me well through three centuries of combat, and is of considerable sentimental value to me. I give it to her as a collateral, and a measure of protection to ensure she lasts, until her mother's return."

And then the Inquisitor, too, disappeared, leaving Shepard and his team alone in the shattered ruin of the Secure Lab.

"Well," Weiss said, stepping up behind Liara, and glancing over the unconscious Asari's shoulder, "That went well. Except for you know, the whole everything thing."

"It went well in _one_ way," Shepard said, running his eyes over the lab, and paying particular attention to the crushed isolation chamber, and crushed Rachni Queen within, beneath the fallen support strut, "We didn't lose anybody. I'll call _that_ a good result _any_ day."

((()))

End of Chapter.

I'm intending to post one plot-arc per month while I focus on my original writing more. We'll see how that works out.


	2. Noveria Aftermath

Noveria Aftermath.

((()))

_Normandy SR-1, low orbit over Peak 15 research facility, Noveria._

"So," Nihlus said, staring at the one Asari Commando they had recovered who was in coherent condition, "What the hell happened down there?"

"What makes you think I'll be telling you?" The Commando asked, her question one of honest curiosity rather than defiance.

"You haven't made a single attempt to escape," Shepard said from his position just off Nihlus' left shoulder, "And we all knew damn well that once we had you aboard ship, you weren't getting anywhere without us letting you."

"True," the Commando admitted, before relaxing into her chair.

Shepard, Kryik, Wrex, and the Commando were the comm center's only occupants, Shepard and Kryik to ask the questions, Wrex to provide intimidation and insurance on the chance the Asari was among the more potent of her kind. The Asari wasn't restrained, but with skilled Biotics, there wasn't much _point_ in restraints, not unless one was willing to surgically extract the prisoner's amp first. Neither Shepard nor Nihlus were opposed to the idea, especially as it was hardly a risky surgery, but they were both willing to give the prisoner a chance to cooperate voluntarily first. The Comm room had been selected primarily because the only other real option was the cargo hold, which in the limited space of the Normandy, also served as the ship's armory. The Comm room didn't actually contain the primary communications equipment, and if a fight broke out, the Normandy would be down it's only secure anti-espionage compartment; if a fight broke out in the armory, holes would start getting punched through the hull.

"My name is Gisel," The Asari began calmly, "And I was the Matriarch's ranking subordinate amongst those of us who came to Noveria. Beneziah had been sent by Saren to extract certain information from the Rachni Queen's racial memory, there were a few points of interest regarding attempting to breed the Rachni to serve as shock troops, but the primary point came in regard to the location of a dormant Mass Relay within former Rachni territory."

"What's so special about this relay?" Nihlus asked, "And why _are_ you cooperating?"

"As the Matriarch said," Gisel said, shivering slightly, "Saren's flagship, Sovereign, is essentially capable of seizing control of your mind, and twisting it to Saren's purposes. Where Saren found such a vessel, none of us, even the Matriarch, know."

"Shoddy excuse," Wrex growled, "The evil mind-controlling Dreadnaught made me do it. What kind of crap is that?"

"One that is quite easy to prove the truth of," Gisel said flatly, turning to glare at Wrex, "Find a certified mind-healer and have them meld with me or my battle-sisters."

"Once we return to the Citadel, we will," Nihlus said flatly, "But in the meantime, if this 'Sovereign' twisted your mind, how is it you are free of Saren's control now?"

"That," Gisel said, uncertainty entering her voice for the first time since the 'interrogation' had begun, "Is because of the human they call 'Inquisitor.' He reached into my mind and broke Sovereigns control."

((()))

_IMS Bread Reckoning, Port Hanshen._

The Imperial Merchant Ship (though it was registered in Citadel space as 'Itricate Merchant Systems') _Bread Reckoning_ looked like an armed tramp freight, took jobs like an armed tramp freighter, and secretly carried the most firepower of any ship short of a Dreadnaught in Citadel space. It was eight hundred meters long, shaped like a metal ingot, had roughly half the cargo capacity of freighters its size designed and built by any race dependent upon Mass Effect technology, and contained more secret compartments and passages than any three smuggler vessels.

In short, it was _exactly_ the sort of vessel that the Noveria Development Corporation's clientele preferred to work with. It was legally registered to mount a spinal mass accelerator stripped from an obsolete Turian Cruiser, giving it roughly the punch of a modern Frigate, as well as a fully-functional GARDIAN Laser system, making it more trouble than it was worth for most pirates; being _legally_ registered as an armed merchantman based out of Illium also allowed it to travel unmolested through Citadel space. It had already carried a number of highly lucrative and secretive cargoes for corporate giants such as Binary Helix, Exogeni, and Elanus Risk Control, developing a reputation for security and reliability ('special' reliability included) over the last decade and a half, making it a known factor on Noveria.

It also was berthed three docking slips down from where the Normandy had landed the day before, and now hosted just over fifty Adeptus Astartes, as well as the entirety of the surviving research and security team from the Rift Station research facility at Peak Fifteen in its sizable concealed compartments. Having been constructed in the first Imperial shipyard in this new galaxy to serve as a deep-reconnaissance and infiltration vessel from the keel up, Magos Tracotensis, its designer, had taken advantage of the superior structural qualities of Imperial materials to design the vessel in such a way that it would appear to be of generic, simple box-like construction with large structural members crafted of low-quality materials, when in truth its higher-quality materials allowed a great deal of empty space that 'should' have been occupied by the ship's basic frame. Combined with five meters of armor sheathing the entire hull, the vessel was incredibly durable by Citadel standards, and pathetically fragile by Imperial standards.

Much of the freed up space was occupied by compartmentalized quarters for the Astartes, a series of miniaturized plasma reactors, and the power runs for the _Bread Reckoning's_ two most significant concealed systems. A small Void Shield Array was the first, and a single Laser Macrocannon with its firing aperture retracted beneath a concealed firing port in the vessel's ventral surface was the second. Its GARDIAN laser array, upon closer inspection, would be revealed to be based on _far_ more advanced Imperial technology, with slightly inferior range, but striking power orders of magnitude higher, than those sported by military vessels within the Citadel navies.

'Closer inspection' was unlikely, between bribes and two Librarians (and a number of non-Astartes Psykers) aboard the vessel skilled in 'redirecting' the thoughts of the rare inspector that was immune to bribes. Beyond the concealed spaces made available by more space-efficient Imperial materials, the _Bread Reckoning_ also hosted plenty of more 'conventional' concealed spaces, false floors in cargo bays, small chambers between the top and bottom decks and the hull, bulkheads between cabins that were too far apart, and other such simple tricks.

It was in one of these cramped chambers that Interrogator Zechariah and Magos Tracotensis were 'interviewing' the leader of the research team that they had recovered.

"I am Yaroslav Tartakovsky," The man said as he eyed the red-cloaked form of the Magos warily, "I have PhD in Biology, Genetics, and Xenobiology. No point in lying, I was research head of Rachni breeding project."

"Indeed," Zechariah said, leaning back in the simple metal chair he was seated on, "My friend here, Magos Tracotensis, has already plundered your facility's digital records, and we have a complete recording of all your research data."

"Your information security was inexcusably lax," The Magos said, synthesized voice barely recognizable as feminine, and in fact the only recognizable sign of her gender behind her cloak, armor, and extensive cybernetics, "Save in one regard. No digital record was kept of the _purpose_ of experiments with the Rachni."

"Ah," Tartakovsky said, shrugging self-deprecatingly, "Purpose was kept classified due initially to Saren's request as research contractor, and later because he was declared public enemy by Council. Initial purpose was to breed army of Rachni Warrior Drones for Saren's use. After Saren went rogue and Corporate Headquarters learned how effective Rachni were, plan was changed to keeping Rachni for human use, though I was not told which branch of Alliance Military was willing to make use of them."

Silence stood within the cramped compartment for some time, and Tartakovsky began to sweat, trying to conceal his growing nerves.

"_SO._" Zechariah's voice abruptly boomed out, "You were intending to harness the Xenos' combat abilities to serve mankind's ends?"

"...Yes?" Tartakovsky said hesitantly.

"The Inquisition," Zechariah said, leaning forward and grinning, "Can _use_ the services of a man such as you."

((()))

_Normandy SR-1, low orbit over Peak 15 research facility, Noveria._

"...At which point the 'Inquisitor' absconded with Beneziah, disappearing much as the 'Astartes' had," Nihlus finished, more or less ending his report to the Council.

"What became of the Rachni Queen?" Sparatus asked immediately, glancing back and forth between Shepard and Nihlus, the comm room's only two occupants.

"Crushed by the support pillar that fell during the fight," Shepard replied promptly, "Wrex carved up the corpse then burned it afterwards."

"Unsurprising," Valern said with a nod, "Clan Urdnot was part of the final assault on the Queen's hives during the Rachni War. Only thirty percent survived the assault, Urdnot Wrex was one of them. Krogan are often vindictive."

"Both fortunate and unfortunate at once," Tevos said with a sigh, "Extinction of any sentient race is a tragedy, but it is perhaps better that the specter of the Rachni remains at rest. Saren and the Geth are trouble enough for us. What of the Asari you recovered?"

"We appear to have recovered the entire team," Nihlus said, "Save for Benezia herself. Aside from initial questioning of Gisel, we have kept them all under sedation until such time as we can return the Citadel, and find a mind healer we can trust with such classified information."

"I have a half-dozen Healers with clearance on the Citadel alone," Tevos said with a nod, "I'll have them ready to receive you as soon as you return."

"Were you able to recover anything from Binary Helix' computers?" Valern asked.

"Yes," Nihlus said, "Somebody had already shredded their security. We got a copy of pretty much everything. A couple of the Normandy's crewers are looking over it now."

"Details are not immediately important," Valern said, shaking his head, "Most importantly, it presents incontrovertible proof of what Binary Helix was doing, yes?"

"Yes," Nihlus replied, nodding gravely.

"Good," Sparatus said harshly, "We'll be sending another Spectre to arrest Binary Helix' CEO and board of directors, and a fleet to seize control of Noveria. We've always known that the various conglomerates were using that accursed ice-ball for nefarious purposes, but messing with the Rachni puts the entire _galaxy_ at risk. Remain on station until the fleet arrives, we don't want someone getting in to clear out the evidence at Peak 15. Were there any surviving witnesses?"

"No," Shepard said, shaking his head, "It appears that the 'Astartes' captured the entire research team, and what remained of the facility's security forces, before they left."

"These 'Astartes' and their leader themselves being the most concerning element in all of this," Sparatus growled, "We'll save the full debrief for when you return to the Citadel, but _right now_, what can you tell me about the potential threat they represent?"

"It's impossible to tell," Nihlus said, clearly unhappy with his own words, "Aside from the Inquisitor, they could have been literally anything from extremely well-crafted automatons made by any major power, equipped with impractically-expensive weapons and equipment, to generic grunt soldiers from an extra-galactic power, as their own words implied. There are only two things that had to bear _some_ element of truth to them; the 'Inquisitor's' fiery transformation, and their teleportation device. The half-melted footprints that were left, the deformation of the lab's walls where the armored troops were slammed into it, and their disappearances. The fiery... _thing_ I can't give you heads or tails about, the teleportation device could have been, again, anything from an extremely rare prototype, to an extremely commonplace item amongst an extra-galactic power."

"We'll be keeping an eye out for them," Valern said, "What is your best estimate of what they actually are?"

"Gut instinct,":Shepard replied, "They were an elite strike team for _some_ power we've not encountered before. Their entire tech base was too different, and they would have appeared in more force if they were common soldiers. They were too competent to under-deploy if they were using common soldiers."

"I agree," Nihlus said with a nod, "Though I caution that this is at best a tentative conclusion, and we simply need more information before any real conclusions can be drawn."

"Understood," Tevos said, "The fleet should be there within a day. We'll be expecting you to return as soon as possible once it has made orbit. Keep the Commandos under in the meantime, and hopefully they'll have more information for us once we've vetted them."

"Yes ma'am," Nihlus said, saluting sharply.

"We'll speak with you again when you reach the Citadel," Sparatus said, then cut the transmission."

The hologram of the Council faded, and for a time, the comm room was silent.

"Well, I think that went well," Shepard said wryly after a moment, "Want to make a bet on whether or not our next field report involves information that could shatter the galactic balance of power?"

"No bet," Nihlus grumbled, "We haven't seen the last of these 'Astartes,' and who knows what new tricks they'll reveal next time?"

((()))

_Bridge, Bread Reckoning_, _Port Hanshen._

"We will be leaving port at once," Zechariah, no longer clad in his heavy armor, declared as he walked onto the bridge, "I have received a premonition of ill-tidings should we remain on Noveria."

"Sir," The pilot on shift, a human Juve named Laura replied, "We're seventy-eight percent through loading our next cargo for Illium. Should we abort the loading?"

The _Bread Reckoning's_ bridge was a compromise between Imperial and local ship-design; it had the basic design of an Imperial vessel, the rear of the Bridge occupied by the Captain's Throne, with crew pits running forward of it to the end of the bridge. It also was _scaled_ like the bridge of a Citadel Warship, designed to accommodate no more than three dozen officers and enlisted, scarcely a tenth of what one could expect to see on the bridge of an Imperial Cruiser. The prime stations for each department, Helm, Munitions, Augur Arrays, Vox Officer, Life Sustainer, Cargo Master, and Enginseer's Adjutant, were all grouped directly in front of the Captain's Throne, with their subordinates strung out along the crew pits in front of them. When Adeptus Astartes were present aboard ship, their ranking officer was usually invited to the bridge as an observer during any operation or engagement, and stood beside the Captain's Throne. The entire design, the Throne in particular, reinforced Zechariah's image of 'eccentric spacer' amongst his clientele.

"No," Zechariah said, "I'll simply inform the loading crew that I shall pay them each a thousand credits if they complete the loading within the next two hours," He paused for a moment before turning to address the Vox officer, "Inform Hanshen Port Authority of our imminent departure, I shall be in the Cargo Bays if needed."

So saying, he turned and marched back out of the bridge.

((()))

_Normandy, Crew Quarters._

For the entirety of Liara T'soni's life, her mother had represented an unconquerable bastion of strength, a source of comfort and refuge that could never be destroyed. Seeing her mother at the mercy of the powerful and physics-defying being wearing the visage of a human, hearing her speak of being not just defeated, but outright _enslaved_ by someone as vile as Saren, shattered one of the pillars which her understanding of the world rested on.

Liara had not led a life _completely_ without trial or tribulation, but her hundred years had been quite safe, as far as mortal peril went, and the most violent death she had seen came from traffic accidents on Thessia. At least, until the Geth had attacked her dig team. Until the house of horrors that remained of Peak 15. She had absolutely no idea how to deal with the horrors of what she had seen, and her first instinct was to seek out guidance and comfort from her mother.

Who was now gone, taken from her by means she did not understand, to a place she had no way of finding. Tears came readily to her eyes, as she lay on her bunk, curled up into a ball, her blanket wrapped around her, tears of sorrow, confusion, grief, desperation, tears that seemed useless in trying to let out the mass of emotions so dense that it felt as though it would burst explosively from her chest, sending shards of her rib cage and heart throughout the small cabin. Part of her hoped that it _would_; _anything_ seemed better than being forced to continue _hurting_ the way she did.

And she had no real idea how much her mother was suffering, _had suffered_ already. Part of her desperately didn't want to know; another, unfamiliar part wanted to snatch her mother from those who had taken her, fierce protective desire dominating that part of her heart. A third part smouldered with slow anger, wanting to lash out at those that had taken her mother, and hurt both Beneziah and herself, while one final part just wanted it all to be over, for her mother to be back, and for something like this to _never happen again_.

The door chime interrupted her thoughts for a moment, but she ignored it, instead focusing on her internal thoughts and emotions. When the door slid open a minute later, in spite of being locked, her attention was far more effectively seized.

"Hey," Sheila Anderson said as she stepped into Liara's quarters, the Asari seeing a flash of another N-7 operative before the door shut behind her, "I thought you could use some company."

Liara said nothing, just glaring up at the young human from underneath her blanket with bleary eyes; Sheila shrugged, before taking hold of the small cabin's single chair, and seating herself beside Liara's bed. Not that the cabin was large enough for her to be seated somewhere that _wouldn't_ be considered 'next to the bed.'

"According to the brief we received before we went to pick you up," Sheila said calmly, "You're a little over a hundred, which is seen in Asari culture about the same as being twenty-five is in human culture."

"I don't see the relevance of my age to your uninvited intrusion upon my quarters," Liara said curtly.

"I'm twenty-four," Sheila said simply, "And I'm probably the single person who can best relate to you aboard this ship."

Sheila waited for Liara to reply, but the Asari said nothing, just staring balefully up at her; Sheila shrugged before speaking again.

"Your just saw your mother taken from you, in the middle of a violent, bloody conflict," Sheila said, her voice taking on a melancholy tone as she spoke, before abruptly turning harsh, "When I was sixteen years old, I came home one night to find three men raping my mother."

Liara gasped involuntarily, and her eyes widened.

"I was already well-trained in martial arts by that point," Sheila said harshly, leaning forward as she spoke, "I killed all three of them with a knife; they didn't manage to land a single blow effectively on me. My mother has not spoken a single word since."

Liara shivered, and as she took in the hellish light in Sheila's eyes, part of her heart trembled in fear.

"My mother was taken from me that day," Sheila half-growled, "And _nothing_ I have been able to do has brought her back."

Sheila leaned back in her chair, taking deep breaths and visibly calming herself. Silence passed in Liara's quarters for several minutes, Sheila wrestling her anger back under control, Liara caught up in warring emotion between her own loss, and what the young woman before her had just spoken of.

"Why are you telling me this?" Liara finally asked hesitantly.

"Because I know the kind of pain you're going through," Sheila said, her voice gruff with pent-up emotion, "My father was too busy with my mother to have any time for me, and I don't really have any other family. I don't want you to go through this alone."

Liara slowly sat up, pulling her blanket with her as she did so, her eyes locked on Sheila's.

"How do you deal with the pain, with feeling so _helpless?_" Liara half-asked, half-begged.

"I'll show you," Sheila said, gritting her teeth and standing up.

((()))

_Crew Lounge, Bread Reckoning, outbound from Noveria_

"A Citadel Battlefleet," Captain Isaiah Singh of the Shadow Wardens said with a respectful nod, "Including a 'Dreadnaught.' Not a force I would wish to face with a light merchantman."

"Indeed," Zechariah Haarlock replied, "I have said it before, and I shall say it again. For all its lack of more _direct_ applications, Divination is the most potent discipline a Psyker may learn. All other tasks a Psyker may engage in can be accomplished via tools, weapons, or the services of a sufficiently skilled Medicae, but the ability to gain a glimpse of your opponent's intentions before they are carried out is an incomparable advantage."

"Psychic prowess is hardly necessary to predict the strategy or tactics of an Ork Nob or Khornate Warlord," Singh grumbled slightly, "Or these 'Turians.' They're almost as hide-bound as the Ultramarines."

"I would have no need of such premonitions to predict such foes either," Haarlock said with a shrug, "But then, it is those capable of thinking outside of common strategems that are usually the most potent adversaries. But enough of this, what were the total damages received by your men?"

"Brother Solinus' armor suffered extensive damage to one hip joint, and he received superficial wounds thereto. Beyond that, a Heavy Bolter was heavily damaged, and munitions were expended. None of the Xenos small arms were capable of damaging our armor, though we both know they will be well aware of this the next time we clash."

"No," Zechariah said confidently, leaning back in his seat, "They won't. Which is why we showed so little of our hand in this first engagement."

((()))

AN: One of the main reasons this much-shorter chunk is a separate chapter, is so that in posting it, the story would register as 'updating' to those who follow it. Just thought I should mention that.


	3. Bastion Sector 1

AN: Two things. First, there is a Codex entry on the Asari in this AU of Mass Effect at the end of the chapter. Second, the reason that updates stopped, is because of financial shortfall for the author. As such, I've had to focus on my original work more. For those who care about it, the link to my writing on Smashwords in my profile will show updated versions of the stories I had there before (which are both longer and better), as well as another story being posted, with more to follow.

Fanfiction updates will continue to be slower and less consistent while financial issues continue.

((()))

_A doom came, and in my mind, the doom of the Tyranids, a voracious hungry congregation of minds from beyond the stars. Hungering for all minds within the Galaxy, but mine above and beyond all others, for once it found me, it knew that secreted within my thoughts lay the passage to another galaxy, another feast of minds for their hunger._

_They swept into the galaxy like a Hive Fleet without the restriction of speed faced by those I had fought before, consuming, devouring, torturing, twisting, hunting; wherever they past, only cold graves remained. When they came upon my home, the loyal and courageous men of the Imperium fought, fought with a vigor and a valor like the hungering minds had never seen before in their long millennia of consumption, but in the end they triumphed._

_We were too few._

_We were not enough._

_There needed to be something __**More.**_

((()))

_Inquisitor's Personal Quarters, Deck 17, Haarlock's Might._

Inquisitor Khan woke from his dream of premonition abruptly, and his chemically and cybernetically augmented brain immediately came to full awareness, tearing apart the dream, searching every last fragment of it for any shred of possible meaning. The impending threat was clear; he had suffered such dreams before, when he had fought in aid of the Achillus Crusade in the Jericho Reach; the Warp was thick with predators, malignant thoughts, ominous psychic whispers, and the presence of the Tyrannids themselves.

The Bastion Sector, the foothold of Imperial Civilization within this new Galaxy, pitiful as it was, _did_ lie near the external edge of the Galaxy's trailing arms. Khan had only ever had such dreams when the Tyrannids were within days of arriving in-system, _or..._ when a Genestealer Cult was concealed within the populace of a world he had just arrived upon.

Khan's fist slammed down onto the activation key of the Vox beside his bed.

"Summon Interrogator Zechariah to my chambers at once!" He barked, "I have need of him!"

((()))

_Governor's Palace, Bastion City, Bastion, 130.M42._

Bastion City was pitifully small, as Imperial Hives were concerned, its population a mere eighty-seven million, and boasting only three Spires, two of them only half-completed. Its production still dwarfed that of most Hives twice its size, direct Inquisitorial oversight since the day of its founding bringing retribution both swift and harsh to those who practiced graft, bribery, and other forms of corruption. Three precepts governed the planet of Bastion at large, and her capital in particular: Justice, Merit, and Efficiency.

Agents of Lord Inquisitor Khan visited the city on a daily basis; the black Thunderhawk bearing the silvery barred 'I' of the Inquisition that was descending towards the landing pad at the Administratum Spire's apex was hardly unusual, that the planet's entire Governing Council had been _personally_ summoned to the Governor's Palace was. Lord Richard of House Strophes, Governor of Bastion, stood at the armored door of the landing pad, flanked by a quartet of Carapace-armored bodyguards. Unlike his escort, Richard did not bother an oxygen mask or rebreather; he was a fit man, and was more than capable of dealing with the thin atmosphere three and a half kilometers above Bastion's surface.

The Thunderhawk made its final approach, its skilled pilot bringing it down to land so gently that Lord Richard did not feel the slightest tremor through the surface of the landing pad when the sixty meter long assault transport touched down. Less subtle was the presence of the eight Fury Interceptors that had escorted the Thunderhawk down, specifically in that they did not peel off and return to their carrier in orbit, instead settling into a tight patrol pattern about the Palace's perimeter. Normally, only four would be present, and they would not linger; Richard's internal estimation of how grave the affair at hand was increased by another notch.

The Thunderhawk's four infantry landing hatches folded down, and two full squads of Adeptus Astartes, mottled gray armor half-concealed by cloaks whipping about in the high altitude winds, came pouring out onto the landing pad. During the entirety of his three-decade tenure as planetary Governor, Lord Strophes had _never_ seen an Inquisitorial envoy arrive with an escort greater than two Astartes, and his wariness increased all the more. When the Inquisitor's envoy finally stepped out onto the landing bay himself, clad in a full suit of Ignatius-pattern power armor, the muzzle of a Multi-Melta visible over his cloaked shoulders, a part of Strophes heart seized in dread anticipation, while a second part was not surprised in the least.

Zechariah Haarlock, the most powerful Rogue Trader in the Bastion Sector, and Inquisitor Khan's right-hand man; Richard did _not_ see this two positions as unconnected.

"Lord Haarlock!" Strophes bellowed over the wind, "I bid you welcome to Hive Bastion!"

"Lord Strophes," Haarlock called gravely, nodding to the Governor as he approached, eight of the Astartes flanking him as he advanced "It is good to see you again, though I wish it were under less grim circumstances."

As Haarlock approached, another half-dozen figures disembarked from the Thunderhawk, all of them armored and heavily armed, though still appearing almost frail beside their larger Astartes escorts. Strophes only had a few seconds to inspect them before Haarlock arrived at his side, but as both a veteran naval officer and a veteran of noble politics, Richard was well-experienced in discerning a great deal from just a glance. Four appeared to be 'simple' Stormtroopers, though such a term was woefully inadequate to describe any soldier elite enough to earn his way into the Inquistor's direct service, one armed with a Heavy Bolter, a second with an Autocannon, a third with a Man-Portable Lascannon, and the fourth with what appeared to be a Power Axe. The last two had Psychic Hoods, rather than hermetically-sealed helmets like the Stormtroopers, and carried lighter weapons, but only a fool would underestimate the might of a trained Psyker in the Inquisition's service.

The presence of Psykers raised Richard's wariness all the farther, but Haarlock himself had reached him before he had time to speculate upon the purpose behind the Psykers' presence.

"I see, Lord Strophes, that you have noticed the Acolytes Inquisitor Khan sent with me," Haarlock said, nodding towards the pair of Psykers as they moved up through the Astartes formation around Khan, "We shall have need of their services shortly."

"For what, Lord Haarlock?" Strophes asked, forcing himself to not let the Psyker's presence unsettle him.

Not allowing himself to become unnerved became substantially more difficult as one of the Psykers moved up directly in front of him, electric-blue eyes staring directly into his own with unnatural intensity for long seconds. Lord Richard had met the gaze of Psykers before; as Governor of Bastion he had little choice in the matter, as the percentage of Warp-sensitives amongst its population continued to rise, but rarely had he found one who would dare look at him in such a manner. Fortunately, though it felt far longer to Strophes, the Psyker's gaze lasted only seconds, after which the man turned to face Haarlock.

"He is free of taint, my Lord," The Psyker said, his voice a surprisingly soft tenor.

"Good," Haarlock said, his grim visage relaxing minutely, before he directed his attention back towards Strophes, "The Inquisitor has had a premonition, and we have come to search Bastion for the presence of a Gene-Stealer Cult."

As the both of them proceeded through the armored doors into the Governor's Palace, Strophes felt a sense of relief that he himself would not feel the hammer of the Inquisition, and a grim foreboding for what this could mean for his people.

((()))

_Governor's Council Hall, Governor's Palace, Bastion City, Bastion._

In the long-standing tradition of Imperial architecture, the hall where the Governor met annually with the Governors-Secundus who ruled the other Hives on Bastion was an immense chamber with vaulted arches leading up to a ceiling nearly fifty meters above the floor. As befit the familial culture of house Strophes, the table, chairs, and other furniture of the hall were of high quality craftsmanship, but simple design, and the walls were painted a flat black, utterly devoid of decoration. The sole display of wealth and status within the chamber, beyond its sheer size, was the vast array of small chandeliers which provided illumination for the chamber, Lumen Spheres set within arrays of high-quality Diamonds emulating the stars of the Bastion Sector. The Bastion system itself resided within pride of position at the center, and the entire display was a direct representation of the Strophes' family's long tradition of distinguished service within the Imperial Navy.

Already seated around the octagonal table when Strophes, Haarlock, and their entourage arrived, were half of the Governors-Secundus, the rest still en route from their Hives on the far side of the world. Bastion's population had yet to exceed three Billion, a pittance for a Hive World, though it had come a great distance since its initial founding, and the constant emigration of colonists to new worlds within the sector played a substantial role in keeping the Sector Capital's population as low as it was. Of the over two Billion souls residing upon the world, more than half resided within the world's sixteen Hives, the remaining Imperial Citizens tending agri-complexes strewn across the planet's surface to feed their hungry kindred who labored within the vast manufactories of the Hives.

Of the eight Hive-Lords already assembled, three were effective faction leaders amongst their peers. First amongst them was Arkmed Kahleel, Lord of Hive Storkath, which specialized in the production of heavy mining equipment. He was a small man, just under a hundred and seventy centimeters tall, possessed of a wiry build, and dressed in a robe woven purely of silver threads; aside from his wedding ring, he wore no jewelry. Lord Kahleel led one of two factions on Bastion of a militant bent, his being focused on increasing the size, quality of training, and availability of war material, of the Imperial Guard.

Second amongst them was Nicolath Carston, a man whose corpulence was only exceeded by the opulence of his clothes and adornments, lead a political faction of the opinion that as the Warp within this galaxy hosted no Chaos, and no hostile Xenos had yet been discovered, the Imperial Navy and Guard should be downsized, allowing the tithe to be reduced. He ruled Hive Subctus, which was known more for its artisans and music than its industrial production. His faction was by far the smallest, as a number of those who had adhered to his political leanings had been uncovered as traitors and executed over the years, leaving his faction with a stench both of personal greed, and of treachery.

Third amongst them, was Antigonie Seraphides of Hive Jeral, a staunch supporter of the Imperial Navy. His Hive produced massive systems and weapons which were installed in the Frigates being manufactured both for the Imperial Navy and Rogue Traders in Bastion's orbital shipyards. He himself was a stocky man of middling height, clad in a uniform modeled after that of an Imperial Naval Captain; he had begun wearing the uniform two decades prior when he had purchased, at great cost, a _Falchion_-class Frigate for his personal use.

All of the assembled nobles, and their bodyguards standing around the perimeter of the hall, immediately recognized the gravity of the situation when Lord Haarlock and Lord Strophes entered together, accompanied by Psykers, and escorted by Astartes. Only six of the Astartes entered the chamber, the final pair remaining without to guard the entrance, but their very presence lent a gravity to the situation in and of itself. Many of them tensed, but none were sufficiently foolhardy to protest when the pair of Psykers, escorted by two Stormtroopers each, examined each of the nobles present in turn.

Lady Sevarine Havengul, the fourth faction leader on Bastion, entered with two of the other Hive Lords, and though she displayed a flicker of surprise, she adapted to the situation adroitly. Like most women of the high nobility who aspired to hold power personally, Lady Sevarine wore beauty like a weapon; she was of a dark, light-drinking black complexion, and tall with an exceedingly curvaceous figure, mostly concealed by a flowing layered dress of progressing gray shades. She wore minimal jewelry, only a pair of simple diamond stud earrings and a thin Platinum necklace; her shockingly white hair twisted into elaborate braids that cascaded down her back. _Un_like most women of her social stature, she did _not_ wear heeled shoes, but instead a masterfully crafted rapier rested at her hip, a silent reminder to any who knew of her reputation, that she was more than simply an attractive ornament for a man of high rank.

Sevarine ruled Hive Hashan, which produced a great variety of different goods, and was known for both its resilience when demand for a given product dried up, and rapid adaptability when a new requirement appeared. Her faction was that of the Aristocrats; they proclaimed the worth and birthright of the hereditary nobility, and while they did not dare outright oppose the meritocratic promotions and appointments of Inquisitor Khan and his agents, they jealously guarded that which was already within the purview of the nobility.

Once all of the Hive Lords had submitted to inspection from the pair of Psykers, and Lord Haarlock had received a set of near-silent whispers from each, the Psykers were sent to wait at the hall's two entrances for the remaining Hive Lords arrival.

"Inquisitor Khan," Zechariah declared gravely, "Has called this convocation for a cause most dire; the specter of a Gene-Stealer Cult lays upon the world of Bastion."

None of the nobles were of frail disposition; they could not be of such and hold positions of authority such as they did, but neither did any of them greet Haarlock's words with anything other than grim foreboding.

"As you no doubt have surmised," Zechariah continued, nodding towards the pair of Psykers, "Regardless of how improbable it may seem that such a Xenos threat has followed us to this distant place, Lord Khan has immediately deployed his finest Psychics to search for the taint of the Brood Mind, this ruling council being the first to be subject to said scrutiny."

Haarlock paused to sweep his eyes across the members of Bastion's ruling council, reading the expressions and body language of each.

"I am pleased to say," He said, his tone lightening minutely as he nodded towards the council members, "That each of you has been confirmed as free of taint. This will make the ensuing search vastly easier, the plans for which will be discussed as soon as the final members of the council arrive."

Haarlock grimaced, then stood, leaning forward and planting his armored fists on the table as he stared each noble in the eye in turn.

"Make no mistake, Lords and Ladies," He said grimly, "Inquisitor Khan will brook _no_ reticence or resistance in this matter, and the search must commence _at once_."

((()))

_Inquisitorial briefing chamber, Deck 18, Haarlock's Might, 131 M42._

"Nothing," Haarlock said, torn between frustration and relief, "We searched every Spire from top to bottom, and in the end, _nothing_ of the Genestealers or _any_ Tyrannid Xenoform."

He was seated at the modestly-sized table in the center of Khan's briefing chamber, the holographic projector at its center displaying a scaled representation of Bastion, each of its Hives marked in glowing green, each lesser settlement amongst the farmlands marked with smaller green pinpricks. Around the table were arrayed a full dozen of Inquisitor Khan's servants, and the man with the Rosarius himself. A quartet of servants were serving all of the Inquisitorial agents a mixture of Amasec and Tannae Tea, depending upon the agent, amongst whom only Haarlock had his face revealed; there was no need for the other agents to be aware of each other's identities, only Zechariah amongst them serving as a public representative for the Lord Inquisitor.

"Lord Khan," Zechariah continued, staring the man across the table from him in the eyes, "You know I do not question your directives lightly, but are you _certain_ it was Bastion itself threatened in this dream of yours?"

"The dream itself was not specific to Bastion," Khan said grimly, "It was of a threat that bore down upon this entire Galaxy. I ordered Bastion to be searched, as such dreams had only ever come to me before when I was in perilous proximity to Tyrannid threats within the Jericho Reach. In all frankness, that the threat was not so imminent leads me to believe that it is only as distant as its magnitude was greater than I first thought. I fear that the dream of the entire galaxy being scoured was _not_ in fact symbolic, but directly representative."

Grim silence passed around the table for a long moment, as the Inquisitor's servants digested his words, already considering what means they had which would best allow them to prepare for a threat of such immense scale.

"It has become clear to me," Khan eventually continued, his hooded gaze sweeping across the Throne Agents arrayed before him, "That whatever threat this dream foretold of, if it truly exists, must be sought out beyond our already known borders. As such, I will be assigning a number of you to engage in longer-range scouting and survey expeditions; we must extend our alert perimeter, so that we may be adequately forewarned when this danger nears. In the meantime, Interrogator Haarlock, what threats did you detect during your search that did _not_ relate to a Xenos infiltration?"

"There were a few disturbing threads of rumor I uncovered in Hive Subctus," Haarlock admitted, "Something which I would like to further investigate with..."

((()))

_A doom came, and in my mind, the doom took the form of the Necrontyr, wretched beings, little more than automata who had sacrificed their lives, their worlds, their bodies, everything which they possessed save their very souls in service to dark gods which cared nothing for them beyond that they made for adequate slaves._

_Masters of fell technology, and sometime corrupters of an unfortunate few human souls possessed of the Pariah gene, the Necrons came in my dream, sweeping out from a disguised fortress near the heart of the Galaxy. In their path, all fell, insidious agents subverted by their fell technology sabotaging critical resources and combat formations, dividing and weakening the Galaxy's inhabitants before the true assault came._

_The races of the Galaxy confused me; I saw not Eldar nor Ork, no Tau or Kroot, but instead strange birds, attempting to ape the abilities of a man, salamanders slithering through the paths of intrigue and deceit, oversized Grox lumbering across the fields of battle, strange bags of levitive gas being cast about by the winds of fate, and odd little masked Squats whom I must confess I did not understand. All of these were unified and led by the machinations of a group of sleek Amazons, human women with limited, but powerful Psychic abilities._

_They fought the Necrontyr, contesting their advance through every step across the Galaxy, but they lost._

_They were too few._

_They were not enough._

_There needed to be something **More.**_

((()))

_Inquisitor's Personal Quarters, Deck 17, Haarlock's Might._

Inquisitor Khan sat silently in his bed for long minutes, considering the dream he had just woken from, his augmented memory categorizing every element of it, then comparing it to his dream of the Tyrannids some years past. From a purely logical analysis of the common themes between the two visions, Khan could see critical similarities between the two, in spite of differences rooted nearly as deeply. Of greatest importance, to his own mind of none other, was that he had an essential, _instinctive_ comprehension that the two dream-visions were, in fact, one and the same.

Why they had come was not Khan's immediate concern; what they _meant_ was the matter of relevance, and there were two major themes that bore direct parallel in each dream, parallels as grim as the dreams themselves. First, the specter of an extra-galactic force that threatened every soul within the galaxy, and second, that those forces gathered to face it thus far, were not enough.

"Bridge!" Khan barked as he slammed his fist down onto the Vox switch, "Summon Interrogator Zechariah, the Captain, and my twelve ranking agents to the briefing chamber at once!"

There was work to be done.

((()))

_Inquisitorial briefing chamber, Deck 18, Haarlock's Might, 137 M42._

"We have an issue," Khan declared as he entered the briefing chamber and examined his assembled agents, "Specifically, an issue as relating to a second premonition I have experienced of a threat on the galactic scale. Further, this dream also suggested the existence of a human Empire already existent within this Galaxy, which has integrated a number of Xenos races as servants."

Several of the agents shifted in their seats at Khan's revelation, Zechariah Haarlock in particular acquiring a sharp gleam to his eyes.

"I know that you all have some idea what the consequences of such a second Imperium could be," Khan said grimly, "The existence of _any_ other spacefaring race within this Galaxy is of great import, much more so a trans-stellar multi-racial polity. It is absolutely critical that we discover this Empire and discern both its capabilities and attitudes towards separate powers as soon as possible; I shall be journeying to Tharsis Nova to speak with Magos Tracotensis by day's end. Before this meeting's end I will have recommendations for different means to expedite the discovery of this race, and by the time I leave orbit of Bastion, one or more of the plans you present will have begun implementation."

Khan seated himself at the head of the briefing table.

"Now," He said, "Give me your recommendations."

"The most immediate and obvious means to furthering exploration," Haarlock said promptly, "Is to issue another set of Trade Warrants, and offer a bounty on recovered Xenos artifacts. The Sector's economy has strengthened sufficiently that such exploration can be funded at least in part from private purses."

"That would raise the issue of first contact likely being hostile," A female voice from onne of the cloaked figures at the table called, "If we seek to understand and make use of this Galaxy's inhabitants, a blanket order to recover their equipment and material would most likely result in Imperial vessels universally being regarded as pirate ships."

"Certainly, more than just a bounty on Xenos artifacts would need to be issued," Haarlock said, nodding respectfully towards the woman who had spoken, "I am, after all, quite well aware of just how Rogue Traders habitually operate. While details can be hammered out with some time, the primary thrust of my idea, offering incentive for more Rogue Traders to engage in the initial wave of exploration, stands."

"The essence of this plan is viable," Khan said with a nod, "While an additional edict that living Xenos are expected to be under the command of another human polity, which the Inquisition will be _displeased_ if a single person initiates uninvited war with, and a third edict declaring that _all_ recovered artifacts _must_ be submitted for Inquisitorial study before a Rogue Trader may engage in any further activities with them. What else, ladies and gentlemen?"

"Unless this Empire amongst the stars you seek is discovered within a few short decades," A synthetically-inflected male voice called from beneath a deep hood, "This will inevitably require another increase in orbital infrastructure and greater production of Starships. More colonies will be formed, more territory will need to be patrolled, more Transports will be required to form cargo, and when this threat is discovered, our overall level of military readiness must be augmented further, not diluted by being spread across a greater expanse of territory."

"The timing and scale when this threat shall be encountered is critical to any further military build-up plans," A second man countered, "If this threat arrives in fifty years, we must begin our buildup _now_, if it is to arrive in three hundred years, we are best served by keeping the Tithes low, and allowing the various worlds' wealth to grow more swiftly, allowing greater quantities of growth overall."

"And both of these factors also depend in large part upon what the Mechanicus will choose to do," A third voice, this one female, interjected, "If they choose to allocate more Tech-priests to re-sanctifying the vessels within the Space Hulk, industrial production becomes less relevant, as repairing and refitting the vessels trapped within that mangled ruin is _far_ more labor and gold-efficient than building them from scratch."

"All of these points raised are true," Khan declared, shutting down the argument before it could hit full stride, "And the issue of the Space Hulk is amongst those I shall raise with Magos Tracotensis. In the meantime, our own yards will have to focus on the construction of more Frigates, rather than larger vessels, as we need more hulls, not more _powerful_ hulls, at least until such time as we discover the nature of the threat that we face."

"Which begs the question, Lord Khan," The first woman who had spoken asked cautiously, "What _was_ the nature of the threat your dream presented?"

"In this second dream," Khan said grimly, "The adversary took the form of the Necrontyr."

"A deadly foe indeed," Haarlock said gravely, "But the Necrontyr fight almost exclusively on the surface of worlds, favoring boarding actions when they are encountered in space. If we face such a foe, we shall need to see to equipping the Imperial Guard with weapons with more penetrative power, and upping the proportion trained for close combat."

"The foe only took the _form_ of the Necrontyr in my dream," Khan said, grimacing slightly as he shook his head, "I am quite certain that it was in truth the same adversary which took the form of the Tyrannids in my first dream some years past. Neither is the true form of our foe, but simply a representation of some aspect of their nature. One element which the second dream contained, that the first did not, was that the first point of incursion into this Galaxy would be not the trailing edge of one of the spiral arms, but some form of concealed entrance nearer to the Galactic Core. I am not yet certain as to the degree of validity of this aspect of the Dream, as it was not included in any part within the first, but it is something that bears consideration nonetheless."

"This would suggest that the threat can be opposed primarily via naval combat if necessary," the Agent with the synthesized voice stated, "Is there any data yet allowing us to discern with certainty whether or not this is the case?"

"No," Khan said, shaking his head regretfully, "But one thing that _is_ certain, a recurring theme between both dreams, is that there simply were not enough men to defeat this Xenos menace. Taking further measures to ensure greater population growth will be _essential_."

"Ugh," The third woman at the table said, her voice laced with disgust, "This is going to mean slipping fertility drugs into the Hives' water supplies again, isn't it?"

Khan nodded grimly.

"I hate being pregnant," The woman grumbled.

((()))

MESSAGE BEGINS

Source: Archmagos Veneratus Tracotensis

Destination: Magos Oberon Delta-7, Commander, Task Force 3

Xenos presence confirmed beyond explored regions by Inquisitorial sources. Search for the _Righteous Condemnation_ has been elevated to highest priority.

Rules of Engagement Crimson XIV. Confirmation: Synford Gamma Potestas Omnissiah

Transit controls lifted. Confirmation: Reboth Tau Machina Victrix.

Report daily.

Fail not in your duty, the Omnissiah watches all.

OMNISSIAH VULT

MESSAGE ENDS

((()))

_Bastion, Geosynchronous Orbit, 137 M42._

Locked into position about the hive-spires of Bastion City, lay the combined orbital fortress and shipyards of the Bastion Sector; the _only_ shipyard capable of constructing Starship hulls in the young Imperial Sector. It was an immense construct, the core Basilica six kilometers tall and two across, bristling with Lances, Torpedo Bays, and Void Shield generators; eight great arms extended outward from the base of the Basilica, the least twelve kilometers long, the greatest twenty-three kilometers in length. Each arm hosted a laser Macrobattery and a Void Shield array for every three kilometers of length, and was approximately a kilometer in depth and breadth.

Within the Basilica's core, dozens of Plasma Reactors churned with primal fury, generating the power by which the station's weapons, Life Sustainers, Sensors, Void Shields, and sundry other systems lived; as the station had expanded over the years, more power had become necessary, and auxiliary reactors had been added within the arms' cavernous interior. The vast majority of the space within the station's limbs, however, was filled with landing bays, Foundries, Manufactorums, additional fuel bunkers with which to refuel docked or newly-completed vessels, and most critically, the construction slips in which the Emperor's Vessels were constructed. Thousands of Strike Craft were housed within the landing bays, serving the twofold purposes of both training for those pilots and flight crews that were to journey out beyond the Bastion Sector's core system, and the parasite-craft arm of the capital's defense.

An immense fortified ring was under construction, already linking five of the eight titanic arms at a distance of six kilometers from the Basilica at the station's core. The ring was hundreds of meters thick, hosting another brace of Torpedo Tubes at the defensive platforms that dotted its incomplete circumference, while its interior was filled with both quarters for the crew and recreational facilities for the station's inhabitants and those on leave from docked vessels, the need for which had been inadequately estimated during the station's initial design and construction. Covered with Adamantine Armor thirty meters thick, the defensive ring also served as a structural brace, as even the stoutest of structural members and materials were strained when the docking arms were twenty-some times longer than they were thick.

As Interrogator Zechariah's Thunderhawk approached the Basilica, he could see the glowing mass of molten Adamantine being carefully extruded into place under the watchful eyes of Tech-Priests sent by the Cult Mechanicus to oversee the project. Even though it clearly bore the sigil of the Inquisition, the Thunderhawk was tracked by no less than three dozen point-defense turrets while on its final approach to one of just four landing bays along the Basilica's superstructure; any fool could paint a simple emblem upon his transport, and the Station Master was nothing if not paranoid. During the final minute of the transit from _Haarlock's Might_, the station's rotation brought a set of massive stasis-locked characters along the Basilica's flank into the light of the system's star, spelling out the station's name.

_Industry of Justice_.

It was, to Haarlock's mind, an altogether fitting name; several of the systems had been based upon schematics seized from Inquisitor Khan's adversaries during the conflict which drove the Bastion Sector's original colonists from Sinophia and Calixis at large. The station as a whole was a testament to the conviction, drive, and determination of the Imperial Citizens who had first come to the expanse of space now known as Bastion, and was the greatest concentration of wealth, industry, and military power within said sector. Zechariah had been part of the team that laid down the first structural members, and personally held no small stake in its ownership; two Frigates and the first Cruiser ever constructed within its slips had been built at his commission.

As the Thunderhawk slipped into the cavernous landing bay, Haarlock unlatched the crash harness, and lay it aside, then stood, lifting his Autocannon onto its magnetic mount on the back of his armor as he did so. Just as when he had visited the Governor's Palace six years prior, Zechariah had garbed himself for war in preparation for his visit to the station; he had no real expectation of needing such heavy equipment or escort, but bringing it regardless helped establish the proper mindset in those who he would be speaking with.

The foundation of Haarlock's war gear was a suit of Ignatius-pattern power armor; while it did not offer the protection that a suit of Terminator armor crafted on a scale for normal human use would have, it was proof against all mundane small arms fire, and did not substantially restrict his mobility or dexterity. Warded twice over against interference by foul Chaos forces (even if such had not been encountered in the two centuries since he had arrived in the new Galaxy), mag-lock mounts were spaced about its waist and back. The lower back of the armor mounted a compact nuclear reactor, which provided power for the armor's systems, as well as a number of power ports designed to work with any external hardware the Interrogator might find himself in need of, in particular laser weaponry. On the upper back the single largest magnetic mount resided, which was most often host to a Multi-Melta, but had been exchanged for an Autocannon for the expedition to the _Industry of Justice_ in deference to the (miniscule) potential for hull breeches the high-penetration weapon carried. Flanking these two elements of Haarlock's equipment were the twin thrusters of a jump pack; not so powerful as those used by Assault Marines, but on his smaller frame, they did not need to be.

Locked to the magnetic mounts around Zechariah's waist, were a series of pistols; two finely-crafted dueling las, an Inferno Pistol, a Plasma Pistol of superior quality, a Sacristan Bolter, and on his left hip, a worn, rugged laspistol that appeared notably out of place beside the other, far more powerful and expensive weapons. The last (visible) weapon about his person was a finely crafted blade on his right hip, its hilt engraved with High Gothic runes dedicating its purpose to destroy enemies of the Emperor/Omnissiah. Over all of this, Haarlock wore a great cloak; with its excessively spacious hood thrown back it allowed ready access to the heavy weapon on his back, and an experienced eye would recognize the subtly rippled coloration of a deactivated Chameleoline cloak upon close expression of the material.

All told, Zechariah carried enough firepower to equip an entire squad of Stormtroopers reasonably well; if he'd truly expected to enter combat, he would have been twice as heavily armed.

"We've landed, Lord Haarlock," The pilot announced over the Thunderhawk's internal Vox.

"Very good Lieutenant," Haarlock replied, "You can expect my return in roughly six hours."

Left unsaid was the fact that Haarlock's estimates on how much of his time a given task would require were _very_ rarely inaccurate.

((()))

Station Master Gaius Kent was an enormous bear of a man, and made his desk seem absurdly puny when he sat behind of it. Some fools questioned whether he was a Space Marine on detached (and secret) duty, some greater fools whispered that he had Ogryn blood, but Zechariah was well aware that the man had, in fact, come out of an extremely distinguished career as a Stormtrooper, one of very few members of the Imperial Guard who'd managed to rise to hold rank as an Officer in spite of his lack of noble blood. His size was a result of gene-modding when he was still amongst the enlisted, and when he had entered Inquisitor Khan's service some two hundred years past, the Inquisitor had commissioned a Magos to craft a suit of power armor for him, one with similar performance for that worn by Space Marines, but proportioned properly for a large human, rather than the distinctly different bodily proportions the Astartes possessed.

Even with Haarlock fully clad in his own armor, Kent was visibly larger in his generic crewer's jumpsuit. The man had been given command of the _Industry of Justice_ not for his organizational abilities, but because after serving three tours of duty as part of shipboard Stormtrooper Detachments, he had developed an uncommon grasp of fleet doctrine. An understanding of how the composition of a fleet, what proportion of Battleships, Battlecruisers, Cruisers, Light Cruisers, and Escorts comprised the fleet, as well as its armaments and any special capacities bestowed upon the vessels by unusual components, was not an uncommon thing amongst the higher-ranking Imperial Navy officers in the Bastion Sector. What _was_ uncommon, was such understanding in a man willing to hold command of a glorified orbital factory and parking lot, rather than a ship of the line exploring the uncharted Galaxy around Bastion, searching for treasures and potential enemies unknown.

After the first man in command of the _Industry of Just__i__ce_, a skilled organizer and bureaucrat, had proved disastrous in his role when he decided to take the role of 'armchair admiral' upon himself and attempt to dictate fleet doctrine by determining what vessels were to be built and how they were equipped, Inquisitor Khan had decided that a man with _applied_ understanding of fleet doctrine was _essential_. A number of Navy Captains had served short stints in the role, before Kent had been selected five decades past, and had served efficiently in the role ever since.

"I assume, Lord Haarlock," Kent rumbled, "That your presence here is to inform me of a change to naval and shipbuilding doctrine?"

"Indeed," Zechariah replied, nodding gravely, "We will be needing a great many more exploration and reconnaissance vessels as soon as possible. The Inquisition has good reason to believe that there is both a pan-galactic threat waiting in the wings, and some form of human Imperium already established within this Galaxy. We must make contact with the latter in order to defeat the former as soon as possible."

"This bodes ill indeed," Kent said with a grimace, "Is there any information available upon either the adversary we expect to face, or the capacity of this other human navy?"

"Of this other human Imperium, nothing as yet," Haarlock said, shaking his head, "Of the opposition, all that is certain is that they will be of sufficient numbers to veritably bury us in hulls and bodies."

"Emperor's Teeth!" Kent snarled, the sound halfway to a roar in his deep voice, "The worst possible of situations. We need more hulls with which to find the adversary, but greater hulls then to fight them!"

Haarlock allowed the larger man's outburst to pass in silence, waiting for the more thoughtful response he knew would come after Kent's initial flash of temper had passed.

"What kind of range will these scout vessels need?" Kent eventually asked.

"As much as possible," Zechariah said grimly, "We have reason to _suspect_ that the hostiles will first attack from near the Galactic Core, though there is no certainty."

"Very well," Kent said, his deep voice descending to a near-rumble as it matched the grimness of Haarlock's, "I shall speak with the Tech-Priests in charge of ship design, and request that they draw up a refit of the _Falchion-_class, clearing the Torpedo Tubes for an Arboretum and extended Supply Vaults. Emperor willing, once we find this Xenos threat, we will have the time to refit them for proper combat operations once more."

"I hope you are right," Haarlock said gravely, "I most certainly do. Now, I also wished to speak with you regarding certain private construction contracts the _Industry_ has received recently..."

((()))

MESSAGE BEGINS

9522152.M42

Source: Magos Oberon Delta-7, Commander, Task Force 3

Destination: Archmagos Veneratus Tracotensis, Tharsis Nova

Blessings of the Omnissiah upon your work.

We have located a beacon laid by the _Righteous Condemnation_ in System Designate XP8-778D. The beacon's machine spirit is strong, and has retained the data within without corruption or degradation. Much of the data is astromantic surveys of many of the systems comprising the Bastion Sector, but many others are systems we have yet to chart.

Most importantly, however, are the notes left behind on their intended course. With this data, our estimated time for discovery of their current position has been reduced by a full 22.0452%.

++BEACON DATA ATTACHED++

_To Break with Ritual is to Break with Faith._

MESSAGE ENDS

((()))

_Bridge of the Haarlock's Might, 154.M42_

"Lord Captain!" The watch officer in command of the Vox section called, "They've found something."

Captain Jordan Mallos, the highest ranked officer in the service of Rogue Trader Haarlock, rotated the Captain's Throne on which she was seated towards the Lieutenant who had spoken, and nodded for him to continue.

"Rogue Trader Strauss' vessel arrived in system just minutes ago, Captain," The officer continued, "And I have received a Vox from our Astropaths, reporting that Lord Strauss has recovered an artifact that is of interest to the Inquisition; he requests that Interrogator Zechariah or Inquisitor Khan send directives to where he should await a boarding party to inspect it at their pleasure."

"Tell the Astropaths to send a response requesting they match our orbit," Mallos ordered promptly, "And Vox the Lord Haarlock and the Lord Inquisitor at once."

((()))

_Landing Bay, Edge of Inspiration, 154.M42_

The 'artifact' that Rogue Trader Strauss had recovered was, in fact, a ship. Roughly the size of a Starhawk Bomber, and clearly not intended for combat purposes (though it was not wholly unarmed), it had a graceful, elegant feel to it, a set of gently curved sweeping wings peeling back from the prow of a roughly disc-shaped core to the vessel. Some of the effect was spoiled by micrometeorite impacts and slight corrosion of the pigments coloring the vessel's surface a gentle blue, but the intention was clear.

"We recovered it in the rings of a gas giant," Rogue Trader Strauss said from where he stood beside Haarlock on the landing bay's deck, "Aside from scans to ensure that it presented no threat to my crew, and mag-locks to tow it into our landing bay, it has been untouched."

"You have done very well, Trader Strauss," Zechariah said, nodding respectfully towards the junior Rogue Trader, "I commend you for your service to the Inquisition, and the Imperium at large. It will be necessary to remove it to my own vessel for Inquisitor Khan's personal inspection, but Lord Khan recognizes your part in this endeavor, and has granted me leave to invite you to personally participate in the first inspection of the vessel's interior; are you interested?"

"Of course, Lord Haarlock," Strauss said eagerly, "I would be delighted to."

((()))

The ship's interior, Haarlock discovered, was remarkably utilitarian. The aft sixth of the 'disc' housed an inoperative Generatorium, the chamber in which it resided was irradiated, suggesting that it was damage to said system that had rendered the vessel derelict. The center of the vessel's leading edge contained a small Bridge, and two corridors ran the perimeter of the disc-shaped primary hull back to the Generatorium, viewports to the outside lending a view of the stars, while three hatches towards the interior led to a variety of chambers. The central hatch on each side lead to a chamber that appeared to be an Enginarium, with some form of shielded and inactive core positioned at the center.

Between the Generatorium and the Enginarium, rested what was obviously the ship's supply vault, which was just as obviously depleted. Forward of the Enginarium and aft of the Bridge, was a combined crew quarters and Galley, containing just four bunks. Unfortunately, the ship appeared to lack stasis systems, as four skeletons lay within said crew quarters. The remaining volume of the ship was occupied by its assorted systems, the two wings in particular carrying a pair of crude laser weapons, drive systems, and what appeared to be magnetic fuel cells containing trace amounts of anti-matter, the ship's apparent fuel source.

The vessel's fuel tanks were _extremely_ large proportionate to its total mass, supporting Zechariah's supposition that the vessel was intended for scouting or exploration purposes. A significant number of the vessel's systems were of unknown function, but most importantly to Haarlock, a gene scan revealed the skeletons to be human females (even if they possessed unusual gene mods), meaning that the vessel represented the first physical substantiation of Inquisitor Khan's premonition. More importantly, its cogitators and data stores appeared to be intact, meaning that it likely contained the first clue as to where the empire amazons Khan had foreseen lay.

"Strauss," Zechariah declared once they had completed their initial inspection of the vessel, "This is a glorious prize indeed; I shall see to it that you are well rewarded for it. Now, where did you _find_ it?"

((()))

_Inquisitorial Briefing Chamber, Haarlock's Might, 154, M42._

"The Tech-priests have successfully accessed and interpreted the vessel's database, milord," Zechariah reported, raising a data slate with his right hand, "I have some initial findings here."

The use of the briefing chamber was a matter of convenience, as only Khan, Zechariah, and two of Khan's personal attendants (two of the twelve men and women trusted enough to fulfill a common servant's duties around such sensitive information) were present in the chamber, but Khan had other meetings scheduled for the same chamber that day, and saw little point in using a smaller one and need to move later.

"Very good, Interrogator," Khan said nodding gravely, "Proceed."

"Firstly," Haarlock said, "The vessel itself. It is roughly of a size with a Starhawk Bomber, though considerably less durable of design, and bearing only token armaments. Some elements of its construction are familiar to us; Titanium and Steel as primary structural elements, they do not seem to know how to forge Adamantium, cogitators operating via electrical circuitry with some crystalline matrices, cold storage for food and other perishables, and assorted chemical recyclers operating as life sustainers. The ship possessed a pair of crude laser mounts, but the small arms we found aboard the vessel appear to be projectile weapons, and based on analysis of the laser weapons, they lack the refinement to create functional lasguns on an infantry scale.

Zechariah stood, and began to pace around the table.

"Notably lacking is stasis technology, in spite of the vessel's logs indicating it was a deep exploration vessel, any record of Melta or Vortex weaponry existing at all, and both Plasma and missile weaponry being treated as impractical fields, though occasionally experimented with. Further, no record of Void Shields, Teleportariums, Warp Drives, Gellar Fields, or indeed, anything regarding the Immaterium at all are noted.

"This lack of knowledge regarding the Warp leads into the single field in which they appear to surpass Imperial Technology; the manipulation of gravity and mass via what is referred to as 'Element Zero.' Running electrical current through said element creates what is known as 'the Mass Effect,' and it appears that almost all of their advanced technology is based upon utilization of this element."

"That seems rather implausible," Khan said, raising an eyebrow at Haarlock, "How could it be so pervasive?"

"Having only conducted a cursory read-through of the ship's logs and database," Zechariah said gravely, turning to face Khan, "I can tell you that it is what allows them to efficiently store antimatter, via manipulation of its mass, it is what their artificial gravity systems are based upon, it is what their primary weapons systems are based upon, allowing highly efficient acceleration of projectiles, it is what their defensive barriers are based upon, creating a 'shield' which blocks high-velocity projectiles until its charge is depleted, and finally, what allows them to travel faster than light without utilizing the Warp."

"Faster than light travel in _normal_ space?" Khan said sharply, "How do they accomplish such a thing?"

"Their FTL drive core," Zechariah replied, "Utilizes a large mass of this 'Element Zero' and an extensive quantity of power to wrap a field around the vessel which renders it functionally without mass. Once such a condition is achieved, the energy transition issues created by attempting to exceed lightspeed are negated; according to the ship's log, it has a cruising speed of roughly ten light years per day, and a flank speed of twelve light years per day. There is a complication to the utilization of the Mass Effect, in that a gravitic 'charge' develops within the Element Zero core of whatever device is making use of it, a charge which must be 'dumped' into a much larger mass. For personal devices this is largely negligible, but according to what I have reviewed within the ship's records, the reason exploration vessels are so small, is that it is able to dump said gravitic charge into any celestial body large enough to achieve hydrostatic equilibrium. The scale of size necessary increases based upon a mild exponential function, and I suspect that proper military vessels require Gas Giants to dispose of this gravitic distortion. Extended Mass Effect operation without dumping this charge will begin to cause the drive core to emit gravitic fluctuations; taken to its logical extreme, this would eventually cripple or destroy a ship."

"Given the energies involved," Khan mused, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "I imagine that operation of an FTL drive creates such a charge exponentially faster than any other utilization of Element Zero?"

"Indeed, Lord Khan," Zechariah said with a nod, "All other uses of the Mass Effect are actually incredibly energy efficient, which I presume is one of the primary reasons that said technology has become so utterly pervasive within their infrastructure. Though more complex, their small arms are also vastly more energy efficient than our own projectile weapons."

"We shall of course," Khan said, "Have to extensively study the potential for this technology with out own infantry, but this will take time. Enough of the vessel and its technology; what of the crew?"

"The crew were clearly gene-modded human females," Zechariah said, looking back down to his data slate, "Unless you wish to clone one, we are unlikely to know the full effects of their gene-mods until we come into contact with living specimens. They refer to themselves as the 'Asari,' and apparently rule a coalition of alien races, with a race known as the 'Turians' serving as their primary military enforcers, while a second known as the 'Salarians' serving as an intelligence arm. They appear to be an extremely matriarchal society, to the point where my initial study of the ship's records revealed no mention of significant males in any societal role. While it appears they are more numerous than the Xenos races of this coalition, they rule primarily via cultural and mercantile domination, and a masterful campaign of manipulation, leveraging both politics and public perception to craft and sustain an image as diplomats, mediators, and peacekeepers for centuries."

"An impressive achievement," Khan said with a nod, "We shall have to be wary when we make contact with them. How large is this Empire of theirs?"

"Unknown," Zechariah said with a mild frown, "It appears that they were wise enough to not include records of either their military capabilities or territory in the exploration vessel's cogitator arrays. Based upon incomplete references to something known as the 'Rachni Wars,' it appears that they have experienced hostile first-contact scenarios before, and learned from such mistakes."

"Good," Khan said with a grimace, "With the pending threat, we will need allies wise to the ways of war; is there anything else of critical note?"

"From data yet uncovered, only one," Haarlock said, "Traces of this 'Element Zero' were present within the very bones of the dead crew, with cybernetics interlinked to them. Further, the remnants of implants that had been present within their flesh lay about their bones. This suggests to me that their society both makes heavy use of augmetics, and that when we do encounter their military, it will be more akin to facing the Skitarii than common PDF or lesser Imperial Guard regiments."

"I will keep this in mind, Interrogator Zechariah," Khan said with a nod, "Strauss has served us well. See to it that he is granted a squadron of Thunderhawks as a reward for this vessel, and inform him that any new technology the Mechanicus derive from its artifacts, he will be given access to first after the Inquisition and the Machine Cult itself. You are dismissed."

"Yes milord," Haarlock said, bowing briefly to the Inquisitor before departing the briefing chamber.

((()))

MESSAGE BEGINS

PRIORITY: SILVER OMEGA

ENCRYPTION: GAMMA TEMPESTUS 818 KAPPA 2

9739154.M42

Source: Magos Oberon Delta-7, Commander, Task Force 3

Destination: Archmagos Veneratus Tracotensis, Tharsis Nova

Upon our arrival in System Designate YYK9-T45J, the augurs of the _Legatus Agripinaa_ detected unusual gravitic distortions near the system edge. Banner Squadron was dispatched at best speed to investigate, while the rest of the task force remained beyond the boundary of the effect.

Banner Squadron approached the center of the distortion until visual contact was made with a large structure of clearly Xenos manufacture. The spirits of Banner Squadron's augers were greatly distressed, for they detected no radiation from the structure outside of the range visible to the unaugmented human eye. Full rituals of propitiation and appeasement were performed, overseen personally by each vessel's Enginseer Prime, but to no avail.

Speculation was offered that the structure may have been an illusion, a massive expansion upon the same concept as the Holo-fields of the perfidious Eldar, while others recalled the technoarcane skills of the Necrons, who were able to construct void-going vessels the size of planets and secret away their ancient crypts at the hearts of the very stars themselves.

It was eventually decided that several shuttles of void-capable servitors with high-power voxes would be dispatched to the apparent surface of the structure to assess its true dimensions. After several days of operation (and the loss of the team of servitors that approached the glowing orb at the center of the object), it was confirmed that it was indeed of the size and shape that it presented itself as.

Following this confirmation, squads of tech-adepts were dispatched with additional servitors for further investigation, under the command of Magos Explorator Niebuhr Klein. It was discovered that even from the surface of the structure augur arrays could not penetrate its skin, so efforts were made to cut through the outer hull to enter it. Las-cutters, Plasma cutters, and Multi-meltas all failed to no visible effect, so a squadron of Thunderhawks was dispatched from _Legatus Agripinaa_ to test their Turbo-lasers. This attempt also failed, and Magos Klein sent a request to test Lance fire against the structure. I granted his request, much to his consternation when even his mighty lance batteries failed to affect it. At this time, a tech-apprentice suggested towing the entire structure back to Tharsis Nova for study given the strength of its armor, but I judged the time and risk of such an effort beyond our current resources.

Stymied by the object's impenetrability to the most sophisticated augers and weaponry of the Adeptus Mechanicus, I decided to release from the tech-vaults a single vortex grenade (one of three kept under stasis fields aboard my flagship) to be tested against this unusual material. The device was transferred to Magos Klein, who dispatched a single servitor carrying it to the structure's hull. The augurs of all ships in range were focused upon the servitor's location, and the remote detonation signal was sent. Following the extraordinarily lengthy operation of the device, Banner Squadron reported detection of radiation consistent with massive generatoria, and Klein returned to the structure with his assistants.

Exploration of the structure's interior revealed that the structure consisted almost entirely of generatoria, fuel bays, and power conduits. Careful inspection of the fuel bays indicated that the device had a planned operational lifetime of 11,000 years (if current rates of consumption were maintained), and that its current fuel reserves would be exhausted within approximately 550 years. Of the Xenos which constructed it, no signs were found.

The data-cores and cogitators of the device have been located, but deciphering the data within has proven to be a lengthy and difficult process. I will send additional information when more data has been discovered.

_The Omnissiah Knows All, Comprehends All._

MESSAGE ENDS

((()))

_Landing Bay, Haarlock's Might, 168.M42_

Rare was the opportunity for most men, even those amongst the landing bay's crew, to stand directly behind the invisible barrier that separated the bay's interior from the void of space. For Zechariah Haarlock, master of the ship, the opportunity was there any time he was aboard his vessel, even in the midst of battle, if he so wished it. As with all Imperial warships, the architects were not so foolish as to include such things as 'windows' along the vessel's external hull; such frivolous weaknesses were nigh-on blasphemous.

_Still_, Haarlock reflected as he stared upon the vessel laying dormant within the void beyond the hangar, _some sights are worth seeing._ And truly, the vessel, his newest steed, was a glorious sight to behold; all the grace of a brick, the beauty of a Grox, and the allure of a three-day-dead traitor.

"I believe I shall call it the _Bread Reckoning_," Zechariah declared, before turning to face his companion, Magos Tracotensis, "This shall likely be your most _entertaining_ creation yet."

"_I concur_," Tracotensis buzzed out, "_It has been far too long since we have engaged in field operations; we should board at once._"

((()))

Codex:

**Asari Republics:**

Combined Population: 123 billion

**Garden Worlds:**

Capital; Thessia. Athena Nebula

Low-quality Agri, Asteria. Hades Nexus.

Hot Agri, Chalkhos, Sigurd's Cradle. (Twin Selvos being terraformed.)

Military, Cyone. Silean Nebula.

Hot Trade, Illium, Crescent Nebula. Borders Terminus systems, theoretically.

Monastary world, Lesuss. Contains Ardat-Yakshi monastery. Nimbus cluster.

Fully developed, Lusia, Billions of population. Athena Nebula.

Lush, fully developed, Nevos. Silean Nebula.

Hot Garden, fully developed, Niacal. Athena Nebula.

Lush, fully developed, Sanves, Athena Nebula.

**Non-Garden worlds:**

Agessia, Volcanic/mining.

Hyetiana, warm Ice/research. Silean Nebula.

Kurinth, 734 C uninhabitable hot world, Asari home system, Athena Nebula.

Lymetis, barren mining world. Nimbus Cluster.

Phoros, Gas giant with moons being mined. Silean Nebula.

Selvos, being terraformed, binary with Chalkhos. Sigurd's Cradle.

Terapso, Gas giant with Helium-3 mining. Same system as Chalkhos/Selvos. Sigurd's Cradle.

Teukria, Dwarf planet with Nickel/Iron mining. Crescent Nebula.

Tevura, Gas giant with moon mining and research stations. Athena nebula.

Trategos, Ice World with heavy colonization. Nimbus Cluster.

Zesmeni, Ice World with Military-Industrial mining. Crescent Nebula.

**Asari ****culture/government:** The Asari only know part of the story, but their species was screwed with long, long ago. _Functionally_, they're genetically and cybernetically engineered human females; they have 'nanobots' running through their bloodstream, which are both responsible for their consistent (and safe) possession of Eezo nodes for Biotic abilities, and their ability to reproduce with basically any alien race. Based on a more 'female' mindset culturally, they operate with a society where personality cults tend to be more blatantly dominant, and being a social loner is _heavily_ frowned upon. 'Consensus' and 'compromise' are still prime cultural values, but historically and in a day-to-day microscale, that's usually ended up meaning 'you compromise to go along with the predominant view on things.' They've suffered fewer massive wars than many other cultures, but a large number of more localized wars of subjugation, where a Matriarch or powerful Matron decided to assert her dominance over a group.

The actual government structure is a variety of Democratic Republic, their general moral and legal code descending from their belief in 'Athame,' the savior-goddess who guarded them against an invasion of demons.

**Asari Government:** The Asari government structure is a series of democratic republics, each with its own organization. Each has at least two branches, sometimes three; Executive, Judicial, and Legislative, with two-branch governments folding two of the three together. Each republic elects, via popular vote, an Elector for the position of Asari Councilor, and the assembled Electors then vote amongst themselves to select which will serve as Councilor. Councilor is a 'life' appointment, in that there is no term expiration, but a recall can be issued at _any_ time, including the same day as the Councilor's appointment. The recall is handled via popular vote across the entirety of the Asari Republics. The integration of much of the Quarian people into this system caused the political landscape of many republics to shift drastically, and Asari culture has gained a notably more technophilic tone.

**Melding:** 'Melding' is a phenomenon which the effects of are very well studied and understood, but the _mechanism_ of remains a complete mystery. Studies of the brain activity of people undergoing melding have, and still are, being conducted at great length. These studies have allowed a great deal of advancement to be made regarding neural/brain treatments, but continue to accomplish little in regard to their original objective.

**Asari Apprenticeships**: An Asari who accepts an apprentice will use melding to teach that apprentice great amounts of knowledge very swiftly. As melding is an intensely personal and intimate thing, it takes earning quite a bit of trust and/or respect for an Asari to be willing to agree to such an arrangement.

**Asari Military:** The Asari military is a fractious thing, in large part because the Asari Republics are far from unified. Navally, the Asari focus heavily on Frigate-based operations, primarily due to the need to provide escorts for their vast merchant marine, and partly due to their culture not adapting well to rigid deep command chains. The famous 'Asari Commandos' are somewhat misnamed, as they are not 'elite units' within the Asari military, they are essentially the _only_ units within the Asari military.

**Asari Galactic Cultural and Political Power**: Amongst those who conduct meaningful studies of galactic culture and power balance, the Asari are easily recognizable as the dominant power. There are three primary reasons for this: first, their birth rate; As a mono-gendered species, _all_ Asari are capable of bearing children, and roughly nine tenths of the population _do_. The fact that they can 'mate' with any species results in a lack of gender imbalance and mate-finding issues other races sometimes face, and as their reproductive periods are long, Asari tend to produce between six and a dozen children _each_. Second is their mercantile power; due to a combination of being the diplomatic forefront of almost every First Contact the Council Races have had, and their own internal wars usually being short and not causing deep damage to infrastructure, they are very thoroughly entrenched economically, and are easily the wealthiest race in the galaxy. The integration of Quarian refugees into their society has _greatly_ amplified this effect. The final element of their power, comes from the Asari leadership's conscious and deliberate choice to wield cultural and economic influence as their primary form of power, rather than direct military might.


	4. Nemean Abyss

AN: This'll be the last of this for a while, as other things have taken my attention.

((()))

_Bridge, Bread Reckoning, 179 M41_

"...Is this some form of ill-inspired humor?" Zechariah asked as he stared at the... _creature's_ face on his primary pict display.

"It's no _joke_," the four-eyed creature said harshly, "You _will_ heave to and prepare to be boarded, or we'll blow your damn ship to pieces and settle for selling the scrap!"

Zechariah turned to face Tracotensis, and gestured towards the alien. Tracotensis, standing beside the Captain's Throne, considered the situation for a few moments before responding.

"_I believe, captain," _She said, "_That we have encountered pirates_."

"_Pirates?_" Zechariah said, clearly bewildered, "But...!"

He gestured towards the deck of the _Bread Reckoning_, then towards the enemy vessel handing a few hundred kilometers away in the void. The pirate ship was roughly a tenth oc the _Bread Reckoning's_ mass, and something like half a percent of its total volume. Zechariah had _no clue_ what the pirates thought they were doing threatening a vessel that was _not_ unarmed, and so much larger than it.

"_Remember captain,_" Tracotensis continued in High Gothic, "_It would be best to take the vessel intact, so we can study more current data records_."

Zechariah shrugged, decided the pirates were probably insane, and turned to face the pictcaster.

"Okay," He said, confusion clear in his voice, "Come on over and board I guess."

The four-eyed creature sneered at him, before cutting communications.

"That Xeno," Zechariah decided, "Is a special kind of idiot," He paused a moment to activate the _Bread Reckoning's _internal vox, "All hands, prepare for boarding action. Try to keep a few of them alive for questioning."

((()))

Zechariah personally met the 'boarding party' at the airlock. The pirate ship had moved to within a few hundred meters of the _Bread Reckoning's_ hull, and sent out a small shuttle. The boarding party consisted of eight 'soldiers' of mixed race and gender, and they opened fire on him as soon as the hatch opened. Psychic prescience being what it was, he'd already raised a psychokinetic shield by the time they opened fire, and after a moment of staring at the tiny little projectiles that had been mashed flat against his shield, he shrugged, and moved to counterattack.

The first pirate pulled a knife when Zechariah approached he/she/it (he suspected it was a 'Turian'); Zechariah broke the hand the weapon was in, broke the weapon in the Turian's face, then moved on to the next of the boarders. In all, he had to kill six of them before the last two were willing to surrender; it seemed that the pirates were crazy _and_ stupid.

"Very well then," Haarlock said to the two Xenos cowering at his feet, "You will pilot this shuttle back to your own ship, declare to them that you have the _Bread Reckoning's_ captain aboard, and then remain quietly in the shuttle like good little captives once I am aboard."

Too terrified to speak, they nodded.

((()))

Pirak was, in his own esteemed opinion, a rising star amongst the pirates and slavers that did 'contract' work for the Batarian Hegemony. In fairness to him, he _had_ begun his pirate career by taking an unarmed shuttle loaded with a dozen mixed cutthroats (including himself), and seized a Salarian Frigate in orbit over some nameless rock in the Terminus Systems. Unfortunately, it hadn't occurred to him that part of the reason the boarding action had succeeded, was because half of the Frigate's crew was on the planet's surface, conducting surveys.

It _also_ had not occurred to him that the Dreadnaught-sized freighter he was attempting to seize was even larger proportionate to his frigate, than the frigate had been to the shuttle he had seized. Or that said freighter might have a considerably larger crew than his freighter. Of course, when the boarding shuttle he sent over returned and docked with his frigate again, all of that became irrelevant because one of the sapients aboard was a Beta-class Psyker, not that he had any idea what that meant.

Pirak, intending to get some gloating in over the 'defeated' merchant captain, met the returning shuttle at the airlock. When the hatch opened, rather than a terrified and battered two-eyes, he found a shuttle full of bodies and blood, and a single being that he did not recognize standing over them all.

"You would be the captain of this vessel?" The being asked.

"This is _my ship_," Pirak said, instinctively going for his gun in spite of his bewilderment, "Who the hell are you?"

"I," The being said, "Am Interrogator Zechariah."

He paused for a moment to snap his fingers, and a dozen heavily armored and armed soldiers _appeared out of thin air _around Pirak, then stormed off into the rest of his ship without saying a word. Pirak turned back to face Zechariah, only to find that he'd been disarmed, and was somehow unable to move.

"Now," Zechariah said, reaching out and resting a finger directly between Pirak's four eyes, "Allow me to show you why I am known as _Interrogator_ as I sift through your juicy brainmeats for delicious little moresels of information."

Pirak tried to scream, but he could not move; soon enough, he was screaming within his mind instead.

((()))

"_This vessel is an offense to Omnissiah_," Tracotensis declared as she stormed out of the captured Frigate's engine room to speak with Zechariah, "_It appears that its technomats have not even _heard_ of a maintenance ritual, much less performed one. If, in fact, this vessel possesses technomats at all._"

"Considering what passed for 'the brains' of this little endeavor," Zechariah replied, holding up the slack-jawed drooling form of Pirak by one arm as he spoke, "I am not surprised in the least. Was there any useful data within their cogitator arrays?"

"_Yes,_" Tracotensis said tartly as she strode towards the nearest hatch, "_Miserably unsecure things that they were. I have not seen machine-spirits so neglected since we first landed on Sinophia._"

"Were you able to ascertain the location of their base of operations?" Zechariah asked as he dragged Pirak's catatonic body along after the Magos.

"_Affirmative_," Tracotensis said as she opened the hatch, then floated out into _Bread Reckoning's_ number two cargo bay, where the frigate had been stored, "_I shall proceed to the bridge and lay in the course at once._"

"Excellent," Zechariah said with a smile, chucking his oblivious burden out into the cargo bay before following after the Magos, "Hopefully, they'll have slaves there. Slaves are such excellent sources of information once you've freed them..."

((()))

_Mess Hall, Bread Reckoning, Bekke System, Nemean Abyss, 2127 CE, 179M41._

The mess hall of the _Bread Reckoning_, like a number of other compartments, was designed to serve a two-fold purpose; in this case, it doubled as a briefing room.

"My source of information," Zechariah, standing at the front of the mess hall, gestured towards the drooling husk of Pirek he'd decided to keep around as a visual aid for educational and intimidation purposes, "Lacked the wisdom to view things through a military mindset, in spite of his chosen profession, so the our available intelligence is limited."

He sent a silent command through his cybernetics and a pict-caster activated on the wall behind him, showing an overview of the sole inhabited planet in the system they were entering.

"This is Bekke, a world that serves primarily as a center of trade and port facility," Another command cuased the display to zoom in on the only major settlement on the planet, "This is Landing, the only city on the world with port facilities. Its economy is based primarily off of serving as a transshipment point for materials mined in the region, as well as booty and slaves taken by pirates, and providing assorted services to the crews of the ship that land there. There is some very limited light industry and agriculture, mostly to provide for the inhabitants own needs, and some simple consumer goods that pirates frequently desire, such as toilet paper."

Zechariah paused for a moment, turning to look out over the assembled Space Marines, Stormtroopers and Naval Ratings taking part in the briefing; he even spared a glance at Magos Tracotensis and her small escort of Skitarii.

"Which is unusual," Zechariah continued, "Because based upon what I've gathered, most of those who engage in trade with Landing cannot find their asses with both hands."

A chuckle ran through the audience, and Haarlock smiled briefly at his own joke, before his countenance took on a more serious note.

"Which does _not_ mean we will underestimate these people," He said firmly, "Based on what we've been able to glean from their vessel's databanks and the minds of their surviving crew, their standard weapons pose little threat to Carapace armor, they lack cohesion, their battle doctrine is near-nonexistent, and we will for all intents and purposes be fighting an armed mob once they land. _However_, that armed mob _will_ have a scattering of heavy weapons and grenades, and as ever, our objective during the assault is to return with zero casualties."

Zechariah paused again to level one of his mid-grade 'Serious Business' expressions at the men and women under his command, before pressing on.

"We'll be inserting via a combination of infiltration, orbital drop, and landing," He continued, "Drop pods will be loaded and released before we make orbit, on a ballistic course to land around the city's military base. This strike team will be heavily armed, heavily armored, and comprised entirely of volunteers. While the drop pods are coasting in on ballistic, the ship will attempt to negotiate landing rights via conventional means, and prepare to storm the starport from within. Once the ship has landed, Myself, Magos Tracotensis, and an elite selection of Skitarii and Adeptus Astartes, as well as a few of my personal assassins, will teleport into the governor's mansion, and either capture or decapitate the local government, timing our strike to when the drop pods make their landing. Once these two prongs of the assault have begun, the forces that remained aboard the _Bread Reckoning_ will begin their portion of the assault. Is any of this unclear?"

A brief glance around the room showed no hands raised, and none of the men or women raised any verbal questions.

"Our first priority, is attempting to locate any slave pens; stolen memories indicate that many slaves are highly skilled and educated, and as such will likely be the most valuable sources of information. Of only slightly less priority, is the recovery of any cogitator arrays or data slates with useful intelligence. Intelligence indicates that the locals armor and shielding is weak against energy weapons, so Bolters will not be utilized during this mission; as far as rules of engagement go, capture of officers and other leaders is desireable, but only so far as reasonably possible. Any Xeno that engages in hostility is to be suppressed with maximum force, and all who surrender willingly are to be stunned and prevented from regaining consciousness until such time as we have taken full control of Landing."

Zechariah turned to fully face all two-hundred some soldiers assembled for battle, just over two-thirds of the _Bread Reckoning's_ crew, and waited a moment for potential questions before continuing again.

"Who wishes to volunteer for the drop deployment?"

((()))

Landing was, like many other cities of the same name, the settlement where the first colony ship on planet had landed. Unlike many other worlds with a city by that name, it was the place the _only_ colony ship had landed; Bekke had a great wealth of light and heavy metal resources, but within a month of the first colony ship landing on it, vast Element-Zero deposits were discovered elsewhere in the Nemean Abyss, and further colonization efforts were diverted. Unfortunately for any hope of _efficient_ mining in the region, the primary movers behind colonial efforts were Batarians, and while _some_ mining occurred, they mostly brought crime to the region.

Bekke, being both the first inhabited world in the area and controlled by Batarians, naturally became the local port of call for every pirate, thug, and slaver in the region. Some mining _did_ still take place on the world, but the few thousand colonists interested in such were quickly overwhelmed by those who moved to Landing in order to fence the pirate's booty, or pander to their tastes. In all the city had grown to some thirty-thousand permanent residents, with between eight hundred and five thousand temporary residents from ships at port at any given time. The humans of Earth had not yet made contact with the Citadel or Terminus races, but if they had, Landing would have been described as 'a hive of scum and villainy.'

Against this morass of thousands of largely corrupt, selfisha, and armed thugs, Zechariah Haarlock had arrayed some two hundred and eleven men and women. Men and women who had been hand-picked over the centuries to enter his personal service, the least experienced of whom had three decades of experience, the most experienced of whom had over five centuries, _not_ counting the functionally-immortal Space Marines or Tech Priests (or time distortion during Warp travel). Thousands of pirates, most of whom had training to the extent of 'muzzle of weapon towards enemy, pull trigger,' and equipment looted from the dregs of military surplus decades old. Two hundred and eleven men and women trained for war, most blooded in war against the likes of the Tau, Tyranids, Necrons, Orks, or even Chaos, equipped with Carapace armor, laser weapons, and an indomitable spirit for the grunts, while the elites carried conversion fields, Hellguns and Meltas, Power Armor and Chameleoline camouflage.

By the time the _Bread Reckoning's_ three drop pods had been released from her cargo hatches, Landing's traffic control was barely aware the large freighter was in the system. By the time it reached orbit and secured landing rights, Haarlock was confident of a decisive victory with reasonably low losses. By the time his vessel had landed, he'd already picked out which vessels in the spaceport to prioritize for capture and study, accounting for possible suicide detonation of some of them as he assigned each team its objectives.

At the end of the first hour of the operation, he would realize that he'd failed to account for the fact that he _wasn't_ facing foes of either fanatical dedication, or literally incapable of experiencing 'fear' in a meaningful way.

((()))

It was the equivalent of five AM on the local clock when the Drop Pods slammed into the ground around Landing's 'military base.' There _was_ a watch posted; they thought they were dealing with meteor impacts. There _were_ other people on the base that were awake; they were mostly drunks returning from a late night on the town. Most of those asleep responded to the loud crashes by rolling over and falling _back_ asleep.

Still, a handful were competent enough to grab their weapons and see what had happened. Those close enough (and foolish enough) to stare at the pods in the seconds after they crashed down, saw them unfold like metal flowers, and massive armored figures step out. Due to laser beams moving at light speed, this was also the _last_ thing the gawkers saw, as the Adeptus Astartes opened fire with pinpoint accuracy, cutting the sentries down before they fully realized they were under attack.

The nine Space Marines in the assault force immediately blitzed forward, taking snap shots at targets of opportunity as they advanced, moving to seize control of the base's armory, HQ, barracks, and motor pool. Stormtroopers in Carapace armor with sealed helmets moved up behind them, cutting down stragglers, and picking out strategic points to set up heavy weapons and entrench. Entrenchment that would prove largely superfluous, as eighty percent of the personnel on base surrendered when the first pair of Shadow Wardens reached the barracks.

((()))

At the starport, a Turian 'customs official' had been preparing to board the _Bread Reckoning_ in order to determine what value of bribe he should demand for allowing the large freighter to land. Once the ship had touched down, he walked up to the vessel's forwardmost hatch, and demanded to be allowed aboard. The hatch opened, and he found himself face-to-face with figures clad in jet-black armor with skulls painted over their faceplates, and nasty-looking weapons in hand, all of them pointed at him.

"...I guess we'll skip the inspection and import fees?" The Turian said weakly.

The officer in command of the squad decided that someone who regularly inspected a ship and its cargo would be a worthwhile source of intelligence, and nodded his head towards one of the women in his squad. She took a step forward, pulled out a shock baton, and smacked him over the head with it, immediately rendering him unconscious.

Docking procedures went very smoothly once that was taken care of.

((()))

The governor's mansion was a large, gaudy structure owned by the Batarian noble who had backed the initial colony expedition. Once he had realized that there was more money to be made serving as what amounted to a large-scale refuel station, whorehouse, and transhipment center for booty and slaves, he had fully thrown himself into the endeavor, and had made himself very wealthy off of the proceeds. He was not a complete fool, however, and had invested a large portion of that money in buying for heavy security measures for himself from Elanus Risk Control Services. The mansion had kinetic barriers strong enough to endure a light orbital bombardment, automated turrets on the walls, security mechs patrolling the grounds, and fifty well-paid mercenaries garrisoned within to serve as his personal security detail.

Most of these security measures were rendered irrelevant when Interrogator Zechariah and his assault team appeared directly in the villa's party hall. For the assault, Tracotensis was escorted by three female Skitarii, and only two of her Storm Warden allies had accompanied her, both of them Librarians capable of _discouraging_ people (and machines) from noticing them, while Haarlock himself had taken the guise of an Asari, and brought two female assassins (wearing sealed Synskins) as his escort.

"**I am Matriarch Imperious!**" Zechariah boomed out the second after they appeared, "**And I claim this world in the name of the Hereticus Tenebrae!**"

Response from the security forces within the mansion was prompt, and they immediately found themselves under fire. Aside from the two assassins, none of the strike team had been selected for the assault team based on the skill known as 'subtlety,' and return fire came from plasma guns, Meltas, grenade launchers, and Multilas. Interrogator Zechariah even managed to get a shot off with his Hellpistol before the initial response force was all cut down, along with most of the furniture, surrounding walls, and a number of trees in the garden outside.

"_Of the Hereticus Tenebrae?_" Tracotensis asked as the strike team began fanning out into the building, "_Could you think of no better name?_"

"We are supposed to seize their attention," Zechariah said with a shrug, before kicking a hole through a concrete wall, and stepping out into the mansion's grounds, "A malevolent star seemed appropriate to the task."

((()))

There were a half-dozen different 'slave pens' in Landing, four of which were directly adjacent to the space port for reasons of convenience. Reald Trak's pen was the closest, something he'd been thankful for many times in his life, as it meant he got the lion's share of business with the pilots simply because he was the easiest trader to reach. Within three minutes of the attack on landing beginning, he was cursing the location of his business for the first time in his life.

Four minutes after the attack began, _something_ blasted in the primary entrance of 'Trak's Emporium,' and every electronic device in the building not operating on independent power shut down. Trak, who'd just entered the atrium on his way to his office (it was where he kept his credits), shrieked in terror, and switched course towards the nearest exit from the atrium, one that led to the actual holding cell where the slaves were kept. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran, but saw nothing but smoke in the doorway; as soon as he made it into the holding cells, he slammed the door to the atrium shut behind him, and manually forced the lock into place.

It was a heavy steel door, designed to be functionally impossible for slaves to break through; if the power didn't come back on, he'd not be able to unlock it, but hopefully it would be enough to keep him safe until the raid was over. Sure, if they managed to loot the credits from the safe in his office, that'd be an unfortunate loss, but-

Something slammed into the door hard enough that he could _feel_ it from a meter away, and Trak nearly fell onto his ass from shock. That something slammed into the door again, then again, and the steel surface of the door around the locking mechanism began to distort. Trak just stared in shock as the pounding assault continued, until a massive armored hand smashed _through_ the surface of the door, and reached up to grab the locking mechanism.

Trak turned to run again, but he was too late; an ear-splitting shriek sounded as the lock mechanism was physically torn from the doorframe; seconds later it smashed into Trak's back, the intruder literally using whatever happened to be at hand to stop his flight. Trak _felt_ his spine snap as twenty kilograms of steel smashed in it, and the breath was stolen from his lungs as he tumbled across the bare concrete floor.

Some atrophied part of his brain pushed him to try to keep scrabbling away with one arm, while the other desperately tried to draw the pistol at his belt, but the steady _thump thump thump_ of his assailant's approaching footsteps due to unreasoning terror, and he lost the coordination to succeed at either. Something seized him by the scruff of his nightshirt, and he gagged as his chest was compressed and pain stabbed him through the severed nerve endings of his spine. He thrashed, but was helpless to resist as his implacable foe twisted him around, and he beheld a terrifying metal visage.

"**You prey upon your own kind,**" An impossible vast voice boomed out, from the black skull-like face of the monster's helm, while glowing blood-red eyes gazed mercilessly upon him, "**You are a coward, **_**and**_** you are weak.**"

Another armored hand was raised, an enormous blade held within.

"**The Emperor has no mercy for scum such as you**."

The knife was the last thing Trak ever saw.

((()))

Kara was an Asari, and she had been a slave for her entire (rather short) life. Asari slaves were rare, especially in Landing, because capturing and effectively controlling Biotics was difficult, and the nanomachines that were intrinsic to Asari Biotics and reproduction also tended to gradually erode and disable the control implants Batarians used over the course of six to nine months. Still, the harder something was to get, the harder it was to keep, the more _valuable_ it was, and as a result, Asari who _were_ taken captive were highly prized, and usually functioned more as status symbols than anything else.

Of course, 'bed slave' was part-and-parcel of 'status symbol,' which was why Kara's father was a Batarian noble she didn't know the name of, and she'd been sent away from her mother as soon as she was able to eat solid foods. Kara wasn't sure how old she was, but she remembered about ten years of life, most of which had been spent knowing that once she either reached sexual maturity or someone found a 'special buyer' with enough money, she was going to 'earn' her food on her back with her legs spread.

Watching Trak get a knife stuck through his four-eyed face was the single happiest moment of her life. Then the armored giant tore the door off of her cell, and Trak's death became the _second_ happiest moment of her life. The giant (she wasn't sure what species it was, but was pretty sure it wasn't a mech going by how it had spoken), began systematically tearing open the doors off of each cell in the slave pen; Kara covered her ears to protect them from the painfully loud noise after the first few, and followed along in its wake.

"**The ship I belong to will be departing by dawn, or shortly thereafter**," The giant boomed once all the cells are open, "**It is your decision whether to depart with us, or take your chances on this world.**"

Kara knew where _she_ was going.

((()))

The assault on the military base had easily been the least successful of the three during the opening blitz, for a single reason; it had actually taken a casualty. One of the relatively rare Turians amongst the base's population had been on watch at the armory when the attack had begun, and he had immediately equipped himself with the heaviest weapons Landing's 'military' had when he first heard gunfire. 'Heaviest Weapons' in this case meant a grenade launcher, and when an armored giant had entered the Armory, he'd gotten off precisely one shot before a plasma bolt had melted half of him and set the rest on fire.

Unfortunately, the single grenade he'd fire struck the plasma pistol just after it had fired, causing it to detonate, and melting one of the hands clean off the Space Marine who'd used it. This reduced said Space Marine's combat capacity by seventeen percent; he drew his knife in his other hand, and proceeded to butcher the remainder of the armory's watch crew without incident.

((()))

"This is very cathartic," Haarlock mused idly, his voice coming out as a soft alto due to his disguise, "It really _had_ been far too long since we've been on field operations. I haven't been in mortal peril since we left Calixis. Well, if you can call this mortal peril..."

He paused as he considered the Turian he was holding aloft via telekinesis; the Xeno had been using Biotics, something that as-yet recovered intelligence had not indicated their species was capable of, and, before being rendered unconscious, had actually managed to land an attack against Magos Tracotensis. If the Xeno had targeted one of the other members of the assault team, he might have actually done some form of damage, but as Zechariah had long since learned, it was usually easier to damage a tank than a Magos equipped for battle.

Of course, she _had_ been the most heavily armed member of their team, making use of four Particle Emitters on fully automatic fire between her regular arms and mechadendrites, making it not unreasonable to assume she was the greatest threat in the assault team. Unfortunately for the Turian, he glowed when he had activated his Biotics, giving his location away to Zechariah's assassins, who had standing orders to incapacitate and capture any Biotic they could. The Turian had rather decisively fallen into the 'could' category.

"_He is fortunate that he did not stain my robes,_" Tracotensis said waspishly in High Gothic, "_The gravitic distortion within my chassis will force a recalibration of every sensor mounted amongst my core structural elements._"

"I'll be sure to inform him of that during interrogation," Haarlock replied drily in the Asari tongue, before turning to the assassin standing beside him, "Any other biotics recovered thus far?"

"It appears that Landing's governor kept an Asari chained to his bed," The assassin replied, "We have recovered her, and she is being kept with the other handful of slaves we have freed amongst the household staff until we are prepared to retreat from this world. We also discovered what appears to have been an escape tunnel underneath the governor's bed."

"Excellent," Zechariah said, clapping his hands together, "I assume it had been used?"

"Yes milady," The assassin replied.

"Very good," Haarlock said, before turning towards the estate wall, "It appears I have some vermin hunting to engage in. Do see to it that the place is burned to the ground while I'm gone."

Their words, of course, were for the unarmored Turian soldier who was on the mansion's roof; it wouldn't do for their planted information to die in the fire after all, would it?

((()))

"**Sir**," Battle-brother Jericho Kent reported over the Shadow Warden's dedicated Vox channel, "**Rescue operation within the first slave pen have succeeded. However, I have experienced a complication during extraction.**"

"**A complication?**" Brother-sergeant Bulwark asked, "**Explain.**"

"**I am forwarding visual data to you now,**" Jericho said, activating the pict-recorder built into his helmet, and directing the feed over the Vox, before looking down at his 'problem.'

Latched firmly onto his armored leg, was a slip of a girl with blue-green skin, odd tendrils sweeping back over her head, and the most adorable gray eyes the Shadow Warden had seen in decades.

((()))

Within the Landing spaceport, chaos reigned. There were just under a dozen pirate and slaver vessels docked at the facility, only two of which answered to the same master. When the _Bread Reckoning's_ crew began their assault on the port, none of the other ship crews knew where the attack was coming from, only that it _was_ coming. Distrust, jealousy, and grudges were all common amongst assorted sapients crewing the ships, and even more common _between_ the crews; once the shooting started, it wasn't confined to the Imperials and those who they were fighting.

Some pirates fired on other pirates, some slavers fired on pirates, and some of the dock personnel started shooting at everybody. Tiny lumps of metal at hypersonic velocity were spewed everywhere, spilling Turian, Batarian, Salarian, Volus, Asari, and even in one case human blood. Through sheer volume of fire, when one of the Imperial fire teams swept through the landing bay of an obsolete and surplussed Turian Cruiser, one round found its way into a gap ion the neck of one stormtrooper's armor, and tore his neck apart, killing him within seconds.

It didn't prevent the Imperials from seizing the ship, but it _was_ the only fatality that the Imperial forces suffered during the attack.

((()))

Those denizens of Landing which were both conscious, and in the right location, to see what took place just before dawn on 'Main Street,' would remember it for the rest of their lives. At first, none realized the significance of the single Asari strolling casually down the street while gunfire wracked the spaceport, garrison, and governor's mansion, but some had the wit to realize that she wasn't just drunk, and such nonchalant behavior was _drastically_ out of place given the attack on the city. Those who realized such, were the only to understand the totality of what happened; one even had an Omnitool, and used it to record everything that he saw.

"**I!**" The Matriarch boomed out, her amplified voice echoing up and down the street, "**Am Matriarch Imperious, of the Hereticus Tenebrae!**"

Her arm reared back, then she slammed her right arm down into, and _through_ the pavement, Biotic flare nearly blinding as the surface of the road shattered. When the debris and light had cleared enough for the onlookers to see clearly again, the Asari was holding a squirming Batarian aloft by the collar of his night robe.

"**This,**" The Matriarch continued, "**Is the former ruler of this world. He not only permitted slavery, piracy, brigandry, and thuggery, he actively participated in and profited from them. This.**"

Her other hand (wrapped in purple luminescence) swept out in a blur, striking the Batarian across the face, and knocking his head from his body, sending it careening across the street to splatter against a nearby wall.

"**Is the price he pays for his villainy. The Hereticus Tenebrae suffer no such moral turpitude in the systems we visit,**" Her gaze swept up and down the onlookers as she casually discarded the headless corpse,** "This time, it is only the pirates and the leaders we have come to punish. Pray that we do not find cause to come visit once more**."

With that, she turned and began walking down the street, heading in the direction of the spaceport.

((()))

Shortly before dawn, the strike teams that had seized control of the garrison were first reinforced, then evacuated, by a set of cargo haulers. The base's inhabitants who had survived to surrender by and large saw nothing of what happened, as they'd been forced into the barracks, and stripped of all equipment. They had all remained their, watched by armored giants whose faces they could not see, while the base's computers were stripped, wiped clean, then burned, and their personal equipment was looted. None of them dared move until the last of the assault team retreated, and even then, only a handful had the courage. Those who did, were able to see a trio of hovering vehicles hauling away both their assailants, and the metal vehicles they had arrived in.

That handful of soldiers were also the only ones to be outside of the barracks when the Hallucinogen Grenades the Imperials had left behind detonated.

((()))

"Sir!" One of the Stormtroopers guarding the primary vehicle entrance to the spaceport called as 'Matriarch Imperious' approached, saluting sharply.

"As you were," The 'Asari' said with a nod as she entered, "The port is fully secured?"

"Yessir," The Stormtrooper said with a nod, "We rounded up the last of the ground crews thirteen minutes ago, and Magos Tracotensis and her Mechanicus have begun to subvert the Machine Spirits of the vessels in dock."

"Very good," Zechariah said, shedding his disguise with a shiver as he moved out of view of any watching from outside of the spaceport's outer wall, "What of the equipment within the port itself?"

"There is too much for us to recover it all within the operational timeframe," The Stormtrooper said, "Brother-Sergeant Bulwark also wishes to speak with you regarding the matter."

"Where is the Brother Sergeant?" Haarlock asked.

"At the Eastern edge of the spaceport," The Stormtrooper said, "Dealing with some form of complication relating to the seizing of the slave pens."

"I shall go to speak with him at once," Zechariah said with a nod, "Be warned that this entrance has become the most likely target since I arrived through it."

"Yessir."

((()))

Two and a half kilometers from the spaceport, the governor's mansion burst into flame, and the promethium-fueled flames caused it to collapse into rubble within minutes of the fires beginning. None still living mourned its passing, though certain parties searching the wreckage in the coming days would wish its computers had not been so thoroughly destroyed.

((()))

"Brother-sergeant?" Haarlock called as he entered the space port's control tower, where the leader of the Shadow Warden detachment was tearing cogitators from their mountings and loading them onto a cart, "I understand you have a suggestion regarding the disposition of equipment we will not have time to recover?"

"Yes, Lord Haarlock," The Shadow Warden said, offering the Rogue Trader the respectful nod of an equal, "I recommend bombardment of the port once we retreat. Our only other viable option is demolitions, and I do not believe we possess enough explosives to accomplish this."

"The _Bread Reckoning's_ sole armament of sufficient scale is its Macrocannon," Zechariah replied, raising an eyebrow as he looked up at the Astartes, "And we do not have the means to disguise the effects of a laser weapon of that size within a reasonable amount of time."

"True," Bulwark said, seizing the last cogitator unit, before beginning to wheel the cart towards the control tower's elevator, "But the pirate vessels which we have seized possess ballistic armaments capable of fulfilling the necessary role."

"You took the vessels _intact?_" Haarlock said, faint disbelief bleeding into his voice.

"Most of them," Bulwark said with a shrug as they entered the elevator, "The scum spent as much time fighting each other as us, and their discipline was truly wretched. I have not seen so pitiful a display in centuries."

"The soldiers at the governor's mansion," Zechariah said as the elevator began to descend, "Fought as a reasonably seasoned Guard Regiment. I appear to have assumed that the space port's defenders were of similar quality."

"Fortunately for us, they were not," Bulwark said, "But even if they were, I doubt they could have prevented us from taking the merchant vessel that was here as a prize regardless. All but the merchant vessel and the largest of the corsairs will be able to fit within the _Bread Reckoning's_ holds, and I supremely doubt that the Magos has not yet subverted their machine spirits, and taken control of them."

"This plan seems to be acceptable," Haarlock said with a nod, "Now I believe you said that there was a complication from the slave pens?"

The elevator door opened, revealing another Shadow Warden, who was attempting to _carefully_ pry a small blue girl off of his armored boot, with little success.

"I see," Haarlock said, nodding gravely, "An out of context problem."

((()))

The _Bread Reckoning_ lifted with the dawn, along with every other vessel that had been within the space port when it landed. The Imperial-built vessel launched last, and not until the other vessels had already begun to bombard the spaceport with low-intensity fire, throwing massive plumes of debris into the air. Between the dust, debris, the glare of the system's star, and the smoke from fires within the port, none of the city's inhabitants were able to gain a clear view of the ships departing, particularly the _Bread Reckoning_.

Every sensor capable of tracking airborne or spaceborne objects within Landing had been destroyed. Every cogitator bearing records of her arrival had been seized, or wiped and destroyed. Every being that had been in the space port when the _Bread Reckoning_ arrived had either died, or was taken with when the Imperials left the world; even the impressions she had left on the space port's landing pad were destroyed during the bombardment as the vessels left. She had arrived during the dead of night, with no running lights active; no one outside of the port had even seen the shape of her silhouette.

A combination of facts that would be very frustrating to certain interested parties down the road.

((()))

_Council Chambers, Presidium, Citadel, 2127 CE._

"It is unlike you to be late, Crassius," Tevos said, favoring the aging Turian councilor with a rather dry look, "Especially for a briefing of such direct military concern."

"It's not like me to be _old_," The Turian grumbled as he entered the room, and it closed and sealed behind him, "But it is what it is. Is this chamber secure?"

"It is now," Paren, his Salarian counterpart, said as he activated a complex mish-mash of electronics on the center of the small briefing room's table, "Or as secure as it can be within current technological limitations."

"Good," Tevos said, nodding gratefully to the Salarian, before turning to the only non-Councilor in the room, "If you would give your report, Spectre Vasir."

"Of course Councilor," Tela Vasir replied, activating her Omnitool to bring up a display of the Nemean Abyss, before zooming in on the world of Bekke in particular, "The Shadow Broker caught wind of some form of attack on Landing, the sole spaceport and settlement of note on Bekke, and as I was already near the Nemean Abyss, he asked me to investigate unusual rumors regarding the attack, as part of our arrangement."

"What sort of rumors?" Crassius asked gruffly, "I assume it was more than just another pirate or slaver raid on one of their rivals?"

"Indeed Councilor," Vasir said with a nod, "There were a number of common themes amongst the rumors, three in particular. First, those that conducted the raid freed nearly every slave in Landing, and seized every ship in port during the attack. Second, that the assault was led by an incredibly powerful Asari Matriarch, who single-handedly tore the Governor's mansion apart. Third, and this is what drew the Shadow Broker's attention, that every last soldier participating in the raid was equipped with effective man-portable laser weaponry."

"Understandable that this would bring the Shadow Broker's attention," Paren said with a nod, "Not having definitive answers regarding such a thing would ruin his credibility. What did you discover?"

"I was able to confirm the first rumor in its entirety," Vasir said, grimacing slightly, "Though it wasn't easy, as the governor's mansion had been leveled and the computers seized or destroyed, the data records and sensing equipment at the spaceport had been seized or reduced to slag, and the same had been done to what serves as a military base in Landing. I had to go through merchant's records of business with the ship captains regarding sale of loot and purchase of supplies to confirm which ships had been there during the time of the attack, and collect vid recordings taken by civilians after the attack to make clear what had happened to the ships."

"And the slaves?" Tevos asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

"All five slave traders in Landing had been killed, their prisons torn open, and their 'stock' freed," Vasir said with a hint of satisfaction, as she replaced the image of Bekke with one of an empty set of cells, a deformed steel locking mechanism lying on the floor between them, "It took very little prodding for me to get firsthand accounts from the locals; the freed slaves brutalized the bodies of their captors, and the remains left a strong impression on those in Landing who saw them."

Vasir paused for a moment to replace the image with an image of an Asari in an unusually bulky hard suit.

"I was also able to pick up a number of Omni-tool recordings of the Asari who at least _claimed_ to lead the attack, and much of that rumor was true as well. She claimed to be 'Matriarch Imperious,' and I have four different sources of footage that show her punching a hole five feet through the ground, then dragging the Batarian who'd ruled Landing out from the escape tunnel he'd been trying to use, before slapping his head off. I should particularly note that the patterns to her Biotic fields were unusual, and she somehow managed to both track the little slug through the ground, and breach the tunnel without crushing him in the process. None of the footage or still shots I was able to find show her carrying specialized scanning gear, though that armor is bulky enough to conceal a sensor array. She _didn't_ destroy the governor's mansion though, I inspected the ruins myself, and they were brought down by some intensely hot incendiaries melting the structural supports, causing it to collapse."

"And the laser weapons?" Crassius asked patiently.

"_That_," Vasir said, frustrated resignation clear in her voice, "Is the one thing I _can't_ confirm or deny definitively. Whoever carried this attack out didn't want to be found or recognized, aside from the one face and name they deliberately showed, and they covered their tracks damn well."

"Unfortunate," Tevos said sympathy in her voice and on her face, "What were you able to recover?"

"The Governor had hired personal bodyguards from Elanus Risk Control," Vasir said, "One of whom managed to make it out of the mansion without being captured. I agreed to transport him to one of ERCS's facilities on my way back to the Citadel in exchange for his account, and had considerable time to debrief him during the trip. He informed me that 'Imperious' was part of the initial strike on the mansion, and, working with an elite team of heavily armed, cybernetically augmented, and Biotically capable soldiers, completely slaughtered the Governor's bodyguards. He personally saw one set of exceedingly powerful solid-projectile weapons used against his comrades, and a variety of _flamethrowers_."

"Flamethrowers?" Crassius said incredulously, "Nobody's used such weapons since the Rachni wars! They're too volatile!"

"That is what he claimed," Vasir said with a shrug, "He wasn't in his armor, so he didn't have any recording equipment available during the assault, and as I said, the attackers were _very_ thorough in seizing or destroying digital records at every site they struck. The mansion had been burned to the ground, so I couldn't exactly differentiate between burn damage from the fight over the mansion, and that done by the fire that brought the mansion down. The spaceport had been outright bombarded when the attackers left; a full forensics team might have been able to pull something useful from the rubble, if they'd been on-sight before the locals started looting it, but I couldn't get much of anything from there myself. The military base, on the other hand, was at least somewhat intact."

Vasir paused again, and began cycling through a number of pictures of the dilapidated Landing garrison.

"Obviously," The Spectre continued, "The base's computers and records were also seized and destroyed, but as the structures themselves weren't destroyed, they at least bore some physical evidence as to the nature of the attack."

"Were there no survivors to recount the tale?" Tevos asked.

"There were," Vasir said, grimacing again, "In fact, the attacking force used some sort of orbital drop pod," Vasir called up an image of three large craters on the perimeter of the base, "To kick off the attack, hitting at around four AM, local time, and catching the base completely off guard. They cut down the guards almost effortlessly, and took just over eighty percent of the garrison captive. The problem is that at some point, they deployed a psychotropic gas on the soldiers there, inducing hallucinations and temporary insanity. None of the accounts I have are particularly reliable, so I'm mostly relying on the physical leftovers of the battle."

"Damn," Crassius said, a hint of respect in his voice, "These people are _professionals_."

"Yes sir," Vasir said frankly, "The one common theme I had from the soldiers, the survivor of the mansion attack, and the civilians who saw part of the engagement, made it clear that they wore standardized armor, none except for 'Imperious' showing even an inch of skin, they moved in disciplined fire teams, and made extremely effective use of blitz tactics and fire support from heavy combat mechs. Whoever did this knew _exactly_ what they were about, and accomplished it with extreme, _lethal_ efficiency.

"Understood, Tela," Tevos said with a nod, "You were saying about the physical evidence?"

"Yes ma'am," Vasir replied with a nod, bringing up a collage of pictures, each showing a close-up view of a small distortion, crater, burn, or other form of damage on a metal or concrete surface, "I found a couple dozen of these markings, and judging by where they fell, they were the results of stray shots striking the given surface, and they all resulted in damage from thermal transfer. I took chemical samples of the burn marks, and the results of testing them have led me to two possible conclusions regarding the rumors of laser weapons in particular, and the attack on Landing as a whole."

"And that would be?" Crassius asked.

"Either this attack was, as 'Imperious' stated, a raid to free slaves and discourage slavery and piracy, wherein the attackers have taken such pains to cover their tracks both to protect themselves from reprisal and add an air of mystery and fear to the assault. If that's the case, these burn marks are the result of incendiary rounds that burn Oxygen/Hydrogen, because I didn't find any chemical traces of less prevalent incendiaries, which would suggest that the 'Hereticus Tenebrae' have developed what they feel is a field-safe means of storing Oxygen and Hydrogen for use as incendiary fuel."

"And if that _isn't_ the case?" Tevos pressed.

"Then someone _has_ made a quantum-leap in energy weapon technology," Vasir said grimly, "And Bekke was the first large-scale field test."

((()))

_Inquisitorial briefing chamber, Deck 18, Haarlock's Might, 2128 CE, 180M41._

"...It is an impressive empire," Khan summarized the briefing on information recovered from Bekke Haarlock had just given, "But the 'Asari' would do well to take a tighter reign upon their vassal races."

"They're giving women a bad name," One of the women at the briefing table growled, "Have they no respect for their own strength?"

"Perhaps," Haarlock said with a nod, "Perhaps not. In all, what we need now is a means by which to prepare these 'Citadel Races' for the coming conflict."

"Indeed," One of male Inquisitorial agents said, "Clearly one of the first steps will be to begin devising fertility drugs effective on each of these species, in order to raise their population."

Every single person in the briefing chamber; Inquisitor Khan, Interrogator Zechariah, the other eleven agents, even the pair of servants waiting in the wings to attend mundane needs, all stared at the man.

"...That is an unusual course of action," A woman wearing hooded robes eventually said, "Even for the Inquisition."

"Indeed," Khan said, "And likely not the most effective. Their technological base is sufficiently advanced to make delivery of such an agent extremely difficult against unwilling targets. A propaganda campaign to change cultural values would likely be more effective."

"Instigating such a thing," Haarlock said, "Would require prolonged infiltration or direct cultural contact with the Asari and their client races."

"Indeed," Khan said with a nod, "For this and many other reasons, we shall start with the infiltration option, and proceed from there. The vessels that we have seized offer an ideal vector for accomplishing said infiltration, though they will need to be crewed almost exclusively by disguised females," Khan paused and swept his gaze around the table, meeting each of his subordinate's eyes before continuing, "Recommendations of further objectives for this infiltration campaign?"

"The first is the most obvious," A man with a synthesized voice buzzed out, "This 'Extranet' should be thoroughly infiltrated and mined for data. The second is slightly less obvious; the mechanism by which the network functions, these 'comm buoys,' must be secured for our own use, and a communication network with the Bastion Sector established, so that we may maintain intelligence and communication parity with the Citadel Races. If we allow our command and control loop to remain at the comparatively tepid speed allowed by Astropaths, we will be at a crushing strategic disadvantage."

"Of course," Khan said, a small, brutal grin curving across his face, "We shall devote an entire Starship to this task; untold wealth of information awaits simple task of setting appropriate intrusion spirits to retrieving it for us. This is not an advantage that can be allowed to go untapped. Other suggestions?"

"We should establish a known legal entity within their territory," One of the women suggested, "Something simple, such as a modest manufactory or trading concern. Eventually we will need more overt contact, and establishing a past history will serve us well when the time comes."

Khan nodded at the women, before turning his gaze towards the others.

"Production focus regarding Starships should change," One of the men suggested, "With the scale of vessels that the Asari hegemony favors, there is little need for us to produce escorts, when their fleets can fulfill that role. Proper capital ships will be needed far more than escort hulls."

"Indeed," Khan said, "And even should contact with the Citadel turn sour, _and_ the Asari divine our location by some unknown means, we have few enough systems that less strategic flexibility should not yet be an issue."

Silence reigned around the table for some time, none of the other Inquisitorial agents volunteering anything, until Haarlock chose to speak.

"A final recommendation," He said looking Khan directly in the eye as he spoke, "Would be regarding the few Asari amongst the slaves we freed. As they all possess these 'Biotic' gravitic manipulation abilities, I would recommend both applied study to granting a similar ability to our own soldiers, and training those willing to form a force we can deploy within Citadel space without revealing ourselves. A secular reflection of the Sisters of Battle, if you will."

"This sounds like an acceptable venture," Khan said, returning Zechariah's gaze evenly, "Though due to the expense involved, and focus on naval build-up, the program will have to either be of very small scale, or you will have to fund it from your own purse, Zechariah."

"Understood, Lord Khan," Zechariah said with a nod.

"Very well," Khan said, turning his attention to the rest of those present, "Unless there are further recommendations, we will now adjourn."

((()))

AN: For those of you not in the know, financial difficulties have strapped my time availability for writing fanfiction these days, hence the slow-down to (roughly) monthly updates. If you're interested, my original work (which I actually charge money for), is available over on Smashwords; there's a link in my author profile.


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